An Assassin and White Geisha
by Seraphim Grace
Summary: Kritiker's new mission means sending the boys undercover in Gion, and Aya is forced to become a geisha, and things become complicated when Crawford becomes enamoured of the new star. (complete)
1. The mission

**An assassin and white geisha**

**Part One**

by Nightwing

"Please, Manx, don't make me do it, I'll do anything." Manx blinked in shock, she had to check she'd heard his right, because if she hadn't heard it she never would have imagined that she had just heard Aya Fujimiya beg.

He held a bamboo box in his arms like it was a baby, but at the same time with disgust as if that baby had just soiled it's nappy. "I'm sorry, Abyssinian, but it has to be you. Bombay's just too young, and the one time we used Siberian in a mission like this." She stopped.

"We don't mention that." Ken said, "it never happened, and I'll deny it under torture."

"This is a complicated mission, Weiss," she explained, "as Persia explained there is a child kidnapping and slavery ring working out of Gion in Kyoto, the last team we sent in were killed, you are the only team that can do it, but we need to have a figure to draw their attention. They work out of this tea room, but to get an agent in we have set up an arrangement, they don't take in outsiders, you have to be invited, and the only people they invite are the Geisha, therefore we need a geisha. Siberian looks like a man in drag and Balinese's not nearly striking enough to be a famous Tokyo geisha the way we need to present him as. He'd make a fine hostess, but not a geisha." Yohji had his hands on his hips suggesting that he had been mortally insulted. "I can't do it because they know my face, so that leaves you, Abyssinian, we need you to go into an geisha house we have a long standing relationship with and pretend to be a Geisha."

"No," he replied.

"Yes," she answered, "Bombay will be joining you as well, as your maiko, and Siberian as staff, and Balinese you will have a job in a neighbouring tea house."

"But," Aya protested.

"Come now, Aya, you'll make a lovely geisha." Ken said with a smile, "we can give you the name Shi-ne."

Aya answered him succinctly with a "Shi-ne."

"In this folder," Manx said, "are your new identities and everything that the previous team were able to learn. Abyssinian, you will be Murasakiiro, the name is especially fitting and Persia himself decided on it for you, Balinese, you will be Katsumoto Tachi, Bombay, Persia decided to call you Aoi."

"Shouldn't that be yaoi?" Ken said with a smirk.

"Siberian, you will be Hirohata Reiichi, and if I hear another word out of you, you will be the one in a kimono." She turned, "Abyssinian, your art will be haiku and waka, so you don't have to learn to dance, sing or play. There are two kimono and haori in the box, and another fifteen waiting for you in Kyoto. They have all been bought with you in mind. There are also train tickets for you all, but you will all need to be in character before you leave. There is an itinerary for you and Bombay tomorrow to prepare you for arrival in Gion."

"Manx," Omi said, "you said I was going to be his Maiko, what is that?"

Manx's smile was for a moment amused, "my apologies, Omi, but you're going to be his imouto, his little sister, the geisha that he is training."

"Then don't I get kimono too?" He looked a little put out.

"Certainly," her grin was predatory, "they are in Kyoto, but you will need to dress like a teenage girl, but we will arrange that tomorrow. Also Abyssinian there is to be a generous stipend for you on this mission, that you can properly entertain. It's to pay for hairdressers and makeup and the like. There is a card made out in the name Murasakiiro, you just have to sign it. Well, that's everything gentlemen, Weiss, deny these dark beasts their tomorrow."

Aya held up the kimono in front of him, it was clearly a woman's kimono with small sakura blossoms embroidered unto a background of pale violet that faded down to an inky blue black. It was a very expensive kimono. Also in the box were several fine obi and geta, there was even a small box with jewellery for his hair. Kritiker had spared no expense and he mentally made a note to work out how much he could sell them for when he was done, although he might keep some of them for Aya-chan. Her hospital bills were very high, but it would be nice for her to wake up to have a collection of fine family kimono.

"Pretty," Yohji said from the doorway, "the red and gold obi I think. To highlight your hair and the earring."

"Shi ne, Kudoh." Aya growled.

"Really, now, you're not going to be the most beautiful geisha in Gion with that attitude, now put on the dress, not that one, the frilly one on the bed, and I'll go with you to the training centre where they're going to train to walk in the sandals."

"Shi ne, Kudoh, I am not wearing that dress." He held up the offending article, "no self respecting assassin would be seen wearing that shade of pink." It was a pale pastel and trimmed in satin and lace. It would look lovely against his pale skin. "They may make me a geisha, but they can't make me wear coral."

Despite himself Yohji laughed. "You have to see the funny side of it." he admitted as Aya's face got stonier and stonier. "You're gorgeous and you're going to be a beautiful geisha, a geisha that Kritiker is going to be proud to patronise."

"Yohji," Aya said, "pass me the dark blue dress and we can get going."

Yohji was thrilled to have most beautiful lady in all of Tokyo on his arm as he walked through Shibuya to the hair dressers. Aya wore a floor length navy dress with an empire line that was bunched around the padded bra that he wore, although Yohji knew that he was wearing briefs and not panties underneath it. He was wearing a pair of pumps and just a touch of makeup. Ken was escorting Omi who was wearing a genki little school uniform with loose white socks and a skirt that was, in Yohji's opinion, scandalously short as they did their shopping.

Everywhere they went people looked at Aya, he was attracting all sorts of attention. A complete stranger had bought him a flower on the street, causing Yohji to put his arm through the heavy wool of Aya's winter coat and almost drag him along. Dressed like that Aya was incredibly beautiful, and although never embarrassed to be seen out with him- Yohji was proud to be on his arm.

"Can we get this over with?" Aya growled.

"You have to get used to people looking at you as a woman," Yohji said, they were deliberately taking the scenic route through Shibuya for partially that reason, and partially because Aya looked so beautiful that Yohji wanted to show him off. This morning they had waxed Aya's legs and arm pits which had caused him to wince, swear and threaten to kill the beautician, though he hadn't raised a peep when they waxed his eyebrows. He'd complained about the creams and lotions they used on his face, and then outright whined at the foundation. Yet the overall effect was so powerful that even Aya had been forced to concede that he made a beautiful woman. "You have to get used to people looking at you desirously as a beautiful woman. A geisha is supposed to make her customer's fall in love with her."

"You fell in love with me." Aya answered sharply. It was true. Yohji confessed his love several times a day, nto that Aya took much notice of him.

"You have to make a room full of strange men fall in love with Murasakiiro, knowing full well that if any of them try to even get to first base with her I'll gut them."

Aya chuckled at that, looping his arm through Yohji's, "jealous, jealous Ta-kun," he teased. "They'll want me more when they know that I have a boyfriend." He was playing with him, acting very much the coquette, but it was uncomfortable. "So is this why I am being treated to the Kudoh Seminar in seducing women?"

"No, this is to get me used to people looking at you and falling in love with you so I don't gut all your customers before you get tipped." He shrugged making his blonde hair bounce, "you'd kill me if I cost you money with my petty jealousy."

"True," Aya admitted, "Omi said that a geisha, if she's successful, can earn hundreds of thousands of yen a night," he practically had yen signs in his eyes at the idea, "even before tips and gifts, and I spoke to Manx and she said I could keep everything I made. I don't think that she's expecting me to do well."

"That's two reasons to do well," Yohji said, "the money, and the chance to prove Manx wrong."

"She asked for photos." Aya added, "every night before we're to entertain Ken is to email her photos of Omi and I, part of me says that this mission is a set up."

"They are stealing children and selling them to the highest bidder." Yohji said, "but I know what you mean, we don't normally go as far afield as Kyoto, and this is happening in the flower and willow world, and why us?"

"It's the photos, I'm convinced we could go in, scout about, be done in a week and then back." Aya said, "I was willing to accept that this was necessary except that she wants photos."

"It's just for future blackmail." Yohji said, "it just gives her one more thing to hold over you."

"Don't even joke about that." Aya said with a mock punch to his arm.

"Well if it isn't my favourite little white kitten?" A nasal voice asked from behind them, "and being seen with a lady, what will Abyssinian say, have you done professing your undying love for him. Does that mean someone else can have a try?"

Yohji swore and Aya lowered his head, when Yohji turned around he wasn't surprised to see Schuldig. He was wearing a green blazer and white trousers, and holding a bag that appeared to be full of books. Nagi was behind him doing his best to stifle laughter by gnawing on his knuckle. He must have taken the boy shopping for the school year. "I imagine he'd say." Yohji began.

"Hello Schuldig." Aya finished.

Schuldig gaped. Nagi just pushed his knuckle into his mouth deeper whilst he pointed with the other hand.

"I am fully armed, and this is for a mission." Aya answered, "so put the finger away, Prodigy, before I break it off." If anything this just made Nagi laugh harder.

"Abyssinian," Schuldig said in awe, "you're gorgeous."

"Mine," Yohji said, tugging on Aya's arm, "Now come along."

"Prodigy," Aya said, before he let himself be led away, "Bombay is here too, and he's wearing a school uniform."

"A girl's school uniform." Yohji added. Schuldig's eyes bulged and Nagi had to stop pointing to stem the flow of blood from his nose, whilst the other tugged on Schuldig's hand to go and find the cause of his nosebleed.

"That was just cruel," Yohji said as they stepped into a quieter street, "and how did you know it would have that effect on the boy?"

Aya just smirked, "isn't a woman allowed her secrets?" In the heels Aya stood of a height with Yohji but where Yohji was gangly even in the long dress Aya looked like a fashion model with all of her height in her legs. She reached forward and kissed him briefly, surprising Yohji that the gloss he was wearing was cherry flavoured.

"There was never any secrets between us, Aya," Yohji chided, "how did you know?"

"Omi calls out his name in his sleep," Aya answered, "and believe me the way he calls it out tells me it is not a nightmare." He pulled his coat closed over the dark blue dress.

"But." Yohji protested.

"It's the secret girlfriend that you've been teasing him about mercilessly for weeks, ever since you found out that he had one."

Yohji looked shocked for a moment and then shrugged, "I'd love to say that they were ideally matched but," he stuck his lip out, "he got a nosebleed. That's just..."

"He's sixteen, Yohji." Aya said opening the door to the hairdressers, "he's only sixteen."

"Our little Omi's got himself a boyfriend." Yohji gushed for a moment, "and he's just as twisted as we are." He clapped his hands together in delight. "But something tells me he won't look as pretty in a dress.


	2. Training

Part 2

Aya showed up for training at the Okiya with dread in his heart and his stomach in his mouth. They had sent him alone. A woman that must have stood only half his size met him at the door, took one look at his red hair and the pale gold sun-dress he was wearing, with a pair of strappy sandals that gave him new respect for Manx, and opened the door with a frown and a "from Kritiker are you?" He nodded and went to remove his shoes. "Strapping man they send us, not willowy maiden they promise, a week." She bent down and undid his shoes, offering him a pair of rush slippers. "You walk like a man, you stand like a man, by the end of the week, you will behave like a geisha, do not imagine it will be easy. Do not imagine that we will be easy on you. Which of the traditional arts do you practise?"

"Haiku."

The woman slapped him on the head with her fan, which she wore tucked into the black obi at her waist. "That is not what I asked."

Aya thought about it for a moment, "Kendo." He answered, "I am a skilled kendoka of some renown."

The woman seemed to take this as a pleasant answer for her wrinkled and crabbed face twisted into a smile, "then you have discipline, this is good, without discipline I would send you back to your Kritiker with a flea in your ear and a tanning on your pale white ass." She said moving forward, "I am Suraki Kanishiro, you will call me obasan. Not obachan, obasan." She repeated herself clearly. "I am what Kritiker would call your liaison in this, but really I have just become your master, your sensei, if we had a fortnight I would allow you to continue your kendo, we do not have time." She hollered out "Hatsumomo." A small pale girl with a lowered head approached them, she wore a pale blue kimono patterned with silver snowflakes, "Tenshiko," the second girl wore a dusky pink patterned around the hems with shells, her obi however was a dark rich purple, she didn't lower her head but met his gaze straight on with a challenge.

Obasan compared the two girls to Aya, "Tenshiko, you will be his Aneki, you will manage him in his appointments, which will start two nights from now, until then, I will manage his training. Hatsumomo, though you are the star of this Okiya, there is none of your softness in him, like Tenshiko he will be a geisha of fire, if he had not been named I would call him that. Murasakiiro they have called him." Tenshiko blinked and then smirked, too well trained to laugh. "An ill omened name, that, but suited to his eyes. Beautiful, you will be, lad, when we're done with you, you will be the talk of Gion."

"At least he will not be the talk of Tokyo." Tenshiko said, "I suppose he will come with a danna attached." Aya blinked not recognising the word. Tenshiko noticed his discomfort and her cruel little mouth twisted into a painful smile. "Patron, pretty boy, a patron."

"Are you always so pleasant with your patrons?" Aya snarled.

"Of course," she laughed, "those who pay for me appreciate my wit," she said turning and showing him a flash of shoulder.

Obasan laughed, "you show a shoulder to a man whose skin is paler than yours and frightened of you, just a little, to boot." She took Aya's hand in hers, hers was hot and bony, like a claw. "We will perfume you with rose oil, and you will look like a geisha of legend, then you will either speak or move and ruin our illusion. Your hair is worthy of a geisha, and your eyes are as pretty as gems, come, Tenshiko, we must polish this diamond in the rough."

She took him into a large bathroom. "Did you shower this morning?" Aya nodded a little in fear. "Then you will not need a bath, take off that ugly dress, all of our geisha dress well, here at this Okiya, and you will not attend any of your lessons wearing that."

"It's high fashion." Aya protested.

"It's hideous, yellow, with your colouring." She shook her head.

"It could be worse, Obasan," Tenshiko said kneeling down, Aya noticed the wide obi she wore supported her back. "It could be pink lace." That seemed to be a private joke between them because it made them both burst out laughing.

"Lesson number one, Aya-kun," the obasan said, as she calmly stripped Aya down to his boxers, "a geisha must be free with her laughter, and she must laugh like she is having sex, everything in her laughter must make a man want her. A geisha is not a prostitute, she is an artist, but she sells sex even without her body. The best geisha are the sexiest women and never have to sleep with a customer. You must not be afraid to laugh."

"Lesson number two, Aya-kun," Tenshiko said in her throaty voice, "just as a geisha's laugh must remind her patron of sex then she doesn't wear underwear, especially those." Aya blushed as red as his hair at the mention of his underwear, which was a utilitarian pair of white jockeys. "In kimono you can be anything you want to be, male or female but you cannot hide your tidy whites."

"Lesson number three," Obasan said lifting his head, "never hide that pretty blush, your customers will prize it higher than they would have your virginity. A geisha is often very learned in the arts of the bedroom, a geisha who can still blush is considered a rare prize indeed."

"Lesson number four," Tenshiko said brightly, "you'll like this one, I think, don't be afraid to defend your honour with a tap of your fan, a gentle one for a playful customer and a solid rap for one that presumes too much."

"Kritiker said that you were shy." Obasan said, "that you didn't talk, that I think will be your first lesson. Put this on." She handed him a black kimono with a red autumnal splash across the back, "Tenshiko, help the boy with his robe, and the gold obi, I think." In a few deft manoeuvres they had him dressed in a stunning fashion, so that he barely recognised himself in the mirror. On the day that his sister had been knocked down she had worn a kimono, and had been dressed by their mother, but nothing so fine as this. The kimono was heavy and rich, it was easily the finest thing that Aya had ever worn, and the obi was shot through with red gold threads. The red brought out the colour of his hair and the black brought out his skin, but together they shadowed his eyes and made them seem large and luminous. "Let's see how our little princess looks with makeup." Aya was moved over to a small stool in front of a large well lit mirror and braced himself as the two of them attacked him with brushes, one doing his hair and the other his face.

In picture books of Japan geisha were pictured wearing heavy white make-up and looking something like dolls, only the maiko of Kyoto in truth wore that much, but that was what Aya expected. Instead they put a dart of red on each eye and a splash of dark red on his mouth. They didn't whiten his skin, but they put a jewelled comb in his hair. Then when they pulled back and looked at each other with small smiles he dared open his eyes.

He didn't recognise the woman who stared back at him. She was uncannily beautiful with his mother's high cheekbones but his father's thin mouth. The curve of his neck into the high v of the kimono was something spectacular, and he had a distinct impression that if Yohji ever saw this he would die of blood loss from his nose. He allowed himself a small smug smile at the thought. "Will he do, obasan?" Tenshiko asked with a touch of awe.

"Oh, yes, little one," the old woman said with a distinct smile, "he will do very well indeed. How do you feel, Murasakiiro-sama, to entertaining, and accompanying the fair Tenshiko on her appointments?"

"But," Aya protested.

"We will spend the afternoon teaching you to walk in geta." Obasan shrugged off, "and pouring sake is not much different from extending the boken in kendo." Then she smiled, picking an imaginary piece of lint from his shoulder, "I will tell Kaasan that you will be accompanying Tenshiko tonight." Aya swallowed.

A ribbon around his throat with a single jade bead nicely covered Aya's Adam's apple and a figure eight piece of ribbon around his knees gave him a perfect geisha's walk. Only a stripper, obasan said distinctly, walks openly in kimono. Aya may not have had the years of training that Tenshiko had, but he learned quickly and he could copy anything he had seen, as an assassin it was the one talent that kept him alive more often than not. Although he didn't, for a moment, believe that he was even slightly ready to entertain he knew that if he failed that Tenshiko would cover for him.

The first party of the night was a series of high powered businessmen showing an American colleague a taste of true Japan. In the car on the way there Tenshiko explained that the American might speak perfect Japanese but a few words in English made him feel like the most important man in the room. "I speak English fluently." Aya said with no hint of shame, Kritiker had made him learn several languages, English was just one of them. "Then you spend the night talking to Sumitsu-san, remember to laugh at his jokes, even when they are painfully not funny, tell jokes, keep his glass filled. The trick is to make him fall a little in love with you. Now American's on the whole don't understand the etiquette, don't be afraid to hit him with your fan if he gets too touchie-feelie." She took a deep breath, "once more unto the breach." She said with a smile as the car pulled up. "Remember, the more attention you pay to him the better, leave me with the locals, they all know me, and watch and copy. Don't be afraid to be a bit tart, they eat it up."

The party was in a traditional style hotel room and there was to Aya's relief, no fewer than six other geisha there, Tenshiko introduced Aya briefly as Murasakiiro, a geisha from Hokkaido who was thinking of moving to Tokyo. The other girls introduced themselves briefly and then moved out en masse to serve the businessmen.

Any worries Aya had had proved to be unfounded. If Obasan had taught him to move like a woman, then Yohji had taught him everything he needed to know to be a tease. With his acerbic wit and stunning looks he was soon holding court with the men, challenging them to drinking games and successfully drinking them under the tables with laughter. He told them a rather witty story that Yohji had told them about an unfortunate encounter with a pretty lady and some mint oil that had the American spray his sake across the room, for him to lean forward with a knowing smile and a napkin.

Sumitsu-san ended the evening by pressing a roll of bills into Aya's hands, and another into Tenshiko's to spread amongst themselves, for a most enjoyable evening, and to his credit only tried to grope Aya once. At four thirty Aya returned to the Koneko, drunk, one hundred thousand yen richer and walked straight into Yohji who had, in truth, been expecting him home eight hours previous.

"Am a success." Aya slurred, pouring the money from his obi into Yohji's open hands. "Am really tired, night." He kissed him on the cheek leaving a red mark. He went to move up the stairs. "Lecture me in the morning." His beautiful face split in a yawn.

Yohji didn't lecture him the next morning. At eight he drove him to the Okiya, which wasn't in truth, expecting him till noon and had to scrabble around to make him tea, and Aya learnt that day one of the most important lessons of the demimonde, nothing happens in the morning, they were too busy recovering from the night before.

One of the Okiya maids dressed him like a geisha as Yohji sat in the kitchen drinking tea. Obasan was one of the first into the kitchen. "Another one?" She asked looking at Yohji, "I cannot make a beauty out of this one, miracles I have wrought on the other boy, but you cannot make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. Like a hostess you look, never could you be a geisha."

Aya heard it from the door and burst out laughing, it was almost exactly what Manx had said. "Murasakiiro-sama," the obasan said pouring herself a cup of tea, "your laugh is as pretty as your eyes, that shade of violet suits you as more than just your name. I have received word of last night's triumph, how much was your patron gift?"

"One hundred thousand yen." Aya said in a low conspiratorial voice, "I didn't accept any of the other gift though he said to share it because he'd given me enough."

"Why didn't you tell me you spoke English?" The obasan said ignoring Yohji completely, "you just added more value to your flower money." Aya had been told the day before that a geisha was not officially paid for her services, she was given money to buy flowers, at an hourly rate. "Tenshiko said that Sumitsu-san was well taken with you, that all of your customers were. You, my dear, will cause a sensation in Gion, but remember, the gentlemen of Gion are not the businessmen of Tokyo, you will learn. Practise, we will, until you are as beautiful in motion as you are when you are still. I will call you Aya-san no longer, after last night you are Murasakiiro."


	3. Aya's most persistent customer

Part 3

Murasakiiro knelt as she opened the door to the banquet room and had her head bowed as she entered the room, turning her back to show an expanse of gold and silver obi, and sliding the door shut. Her hair was a dark rich red that was pinned up with silver and shell combs and she wore two long thin pendant earrings, and her kimono was dipped almost scandalously low at the back. The other geisha gave her small glares that they almost completely hid behind their fans, and small smiles, but Crawford noticed, that these other women seemed to consider Murasakiiro a threat.

Crawford hated geisha parties. Most of the geisha were shallow vain creatures with very little appreciation of modern culture, as if they had never lived beyond the 1850's. Takatori, on the other hand loved them, and seemed to enjoy arranging them, though he was usually too busy to attend. It invariably meant Takatori slapping Crawford on the back and telling him to enjoy himself whilst Schuldig spent all night filing his nails watching Takatori and then telepathically teasing Crawford for being around some of Tokyo's most beautiful women and being bored senseless.

Well, Crawford thought to himself, if they are slightly antagonist if it will give me something to do. Then Murasakiiro turned and Crawford almost did a double take. He had never seen anyone so very beautiful, those pale high cheekbones, the thin wide mouth, and those bright beautiful violet coloured eyes. She was haunting, and she looked uncannily like Weiss' Abyssinian, but he would never sit so subserviently on the floor like this beautiful geisha was doing, with her head tilted. Then she looked at Crawford and blinked once, and then twice.

"Would you prefer if we spoke in English?" Murasakiiro asked in a soft but deep voice, a voice that reminded him of a certain English actress that he had lusted after as a teenager. "I believe it would make you more comfortable. I am as confident in English as Japanese. Would you care for some sake? Or would you prefer tea?"

Now it was Crawford's turn to blink once, and then twice. Murasakiiro had caught him completely unawares. The geisha never spoke in English, most thinking it a barbarian language, and they never offered him tea. "I am Murasakiiro, as I am sure that the others have told you. Can I be honoured with your name?"

Crawford was gaping just a touch, the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, a woman that looked uncannily like Weiss' Abyssinian, a man he had secretly lusted over for months, was smiling at him with a faint and rather sexy smile and asking his name. "Bradley Crawford." he said bowing his head, he considered offering her his hand to shake but the palm was just a bit sweaty so he just bowed his head. "Call me Crawford. I detest Bradley."

She smiled again, tilting her head. "You do not strike me as the kind of person that would willingly attend such banquets, you seem uncomfortable among such luxuries." She said pouring a small bowl of the sake for him, baring a length of smooth white forearm. Her kimono was strictly fastened at the front, but it did dip almost scandalously low at the back. He had heard a lot from Takatori lately about this new geisha that he desperately wanted to meet, before being called away to a last minute party that was being held by a political competitor. He had specifically requested her to wait on him, and in his absence she was waiting on Crawford. He was beginning to understand the appeal of geisha parties.

"I must say that I am not." Crawford continued, "but this is the first time that I have met such an open geisha."

Murasakiiro smiled again, it was an almost smirk. "I was a scandal in Hokkaido for my smart mouth." She poured herself a bowl of the sake and sipped it, leaving a red smear on the edge of the cup. "However I find it advantageous in my art to be a little open."

Crawford leaned forward, after living so long with Schuldig it was nice having someone flirt with him without being so brazen as "have me now", Murasakiiro's coy smiles and delicate euphemisms were actually quite charming. "And tell me, Murasakiiro-sama, what is your art that you should be a little open for."

Murasakiiro laughed, just a little, "How do you say it in English?" She paused, patting her fan against her cheek, "I am a poet. My art is haiku and waka. I have a little gift for it."

Once again she had caught him unawares, most geisha were proud of their art, but it tended to be song, or kouta or dance, again Murasakiiro was different from the rest of the geisha. "Would you recite for me?" he asked.

"I would be honoured." Murasakiiro smiled again, it was a small and rather fetching smile that seemed to mean more to Crawford than the daring smiles of most of the women he knew. She raised her slim white hands over her head and clapped twice, all of the other geisha turned her head and then shuffled back so that all the customers of the banquet could see Murasakiiro clearly. "Crawford-san has asked that I read for him." She said, "but I have nothing prepared, so I must trust in another poet to entertain you this evening, and in honour of our guest I trust that Miss Dickinson will suffice."

For the third time Murasakiiro caught Crawford in shock, he had no preparation for her to read Emily Dickinson in her soft husky voice.

"The moon is distant from the sea,

and yet with amber hands

she leads him, docile as a boy,

Along appointed sands.

He never misses a degree;

Obedient to her eye,

He comes just so far toward the town

Just so far goes away

Oh, Signor, thine the amber hand,

And mine the distant sea,-

Obedient to the least command

Thine eyes impose on me."

Crawford's voice stuck in his throat, it was common not to acknowledge a geisha's art and then to reflect the wonder in a gift at the end of the night, but Crawford couldn't help himself. He began to clap, low, and then the rest of the customers turned to look at him, and then they began to clap as well. Murasakiiro blushed clean to the roots of her dark red hair, lowering her eyes. Several of the other geisha just glared but did well to hide their displeasure. "I cannot accept such respect," she said, snapping out her fan and hiding a very faint smile behind it, "the verse was not mine, do not applaud me this evening, applaud Miss Dickinson."

"Modest and beautiful." One of the other customers said, "come Murasakiiro, will you not honour us with your smile?"

"A smile is a pale thing in comparison to your adulation." She said with a small smile. Crawford mentally counted it off. She had answered him with a haiku. There was a small cheer as they realised it. The other geisha just glared even harder.

"Another." Another customer said.

"How can I live up to the expectations of my guests this evening?" Murasakiiro answered, standing up and smoothing out the long fabric of her dark green kimono, showing the inside line of a dark purple that brought out the unusual colour of her eyes. "Please excuse me, I have other obligations this evening." She bowed her head, and spread the lush fabric of her kimono.

Crawford stood up "Murasakiiro-sama, I would be upset if you left me this evening, when the night is still yet so young."

Murasakiiro matched his gaze for a full moment and then blushed again, a pale pink flush that crawled down the skin of her neck to her bosom. "By your will." She said, settling down again, but the way she had stood the fabric of her kimono had loosened so when she knelt it pooled around her like a puddle. "After all yours is the amber eyes that impose your will on me."

* * *

Murasakiiro stayed by Crawford's side for the rest of the evening, and in that time they discussed topics as diverse as soccer and English poetry. It seemed she was also well versed in Coleridge and Poe, but had a fondness for Dickinson, where Crawford himself liked Whitman. They discussed opera and musicals, and other displays at the theatre, and when the time came to part he pressed a fat roll of bills into her hand and asked permission to invite her again. She smiled and pressed her fan into his hand in exchange for the money. "But Crawford-san, come next week my time as an apprentice in Tokyo will be done, and I shall be in Gion. I am honoured by your attention, but I fear I cannot accept it."

Crawford frowned. "Then I shall follow you to Gion." He said, "I will speak to your Okiya in the morning to enquire after your patronage."

Murasakiiro paled even further, her creamy skin took on a grey tone. "You flatter me more than such a humble geisha deserves."

Another geisha who had introduced herself as Tenshiko appeared behind her, this one was striking but lacked Murasakiiro's alien beauty, she placed her hand on Murasakiiro's waist and her head on her shoulder. "I will recommend your -application to the Okasan of our Okiya, Crawford-san, poor Murasakiiro has simply been caught unawares by your largess. Normally she is not so shy." Crawford handed a second roll of money into Tenshiko's hand.

"Will you be joining Murasakiiro in Gion?" He asked.

Tenshiko shook her head causing the jewels in her hair to tinkle pleasantly. "No, Crawford-san, Murasakiiro goes to Gion to train a Maiko of promise, she has been summoned by the Okiya of the Ichirogo teahouse. It is a mark of great honour. Now, please excuse us, Crawford-san. It is late and such beauty is rewarded by rest."

"Murasakiiro-sama." Crawford said as they went to walk away. He reached out and took her hand, pulling her back and twisting her on her socked foot and stole a kiss. Just a small kiss, a very faint press of the lips. She gasped and pressed her hand to her lips, Tenshiko laughed just a little and then tapped Crawford on the hand with her fan to free Murasakiiro and together they vanished into a large black car that was waiting for them.

* * *

"Ohmigod." Tenshiko said in the car as she started to pull the combs from her hair, "you've got a fan and a half, and Crawford-san, one of the most powerful men in the Tokyo diet, he's the bodyguard of Takatori-san."

Murasakiiro glowered and her eyebrows drew a long thin line and she muttered "Shi-ne" under his breath. "I'm going to complain about sexual harassment, kissed by Oracle of Schwarz."

"Come on," Tenshiko said with a low laugh, "he's gorgeous, rich and clever, what more can a geisha want from her patron?" She stretched her long legs out in front of her and cast her head back, her black hair falling down around her neck.

"He's also the head of a rival assassination group and bodyguard of my worst enemy. It's obviously just a small problem, and now he's going to follow me to Gion, and lets not imagine what will happen when he finds out Murasakiiro's deadly secret." Murasakiiro said, loosening the combs from her hair. "And I had to break the rest of tonight's appointments for him. I'm never going to hear the end of it. That's a lot of money lost."

"He gave me two hundred thousand yen." Tenshiko said, trying to appeal to Murasakiiro's mercenary nature. "How much did he give you?"

She pulled the bill roll from her obi and began to count. "One million yen." She said, and then counted it again, "ohmigod." She breathed, her hand, "I just got given a million yen for reading a poem I learned in high-school. If I was a girl I think I would faint."

"Ohmigod." Tenshiko said, flapping her hands excitedly. "I hope I attract someone like Crawford-san, because," she paused, "gorgeous, and one million yen for a night. Not including wages." Murasakiiro waited in the back of the car, fanning herself with the money.

At the Okiya Obasan was waiting up for him, she wore a light yukuta and when she came in she hugged her tight. "star of our Okiya you are, they will speak of Murasakiiro in years to come, we can charge double for both Tenshiko and Hatsumomo, Crawford-san called asking to speak to you, I explained that you were not back, and that you would not be entertaining tomorrow because you would be travelling to Gion, nonetheless there was reference to a gift, and he offered to pay triple your flower money for this evening because he made you break your appointments." That time Murasakiiro did faint.


	4. Practising Haiku on the train

Part 4

The train journey to Kyoto was long and arduous, Omi wore a pretty sun dress with large pale flowers and worried at a notebook, writing a few words and then chewing his pencil. Aya looked as if the world around him could very easily have ended and he would not have stirred from his book_, "men are from Mars, women are from Venus_." Across from them Ken and Yohji were engaged in a game of I spy out of the cabin window.

"The blossoms fall with steady surety making one yearn for the coming of spring." Omi read out, they all looked at him.

"Why are you writing haiku?" Aya asked, pulling at the edge of his skirt suit so that it covered more of his thighs.

"You have to, so I wondered if I could, but I'm no good at it, am I?" If Omi's hair wasn't pulled up in ribbons that made him look much younger Yohji would have ruffled his hair. He looked so forlorn.

"Try the autumn leaves fall surely and make me yearn for the coming of spring." Aya answered making a haiku that managed exactly seventeen syllables. "Or we could do it as a waka, "when the autumn leaves fall on the grass I find myself yearning for the blossoms of spring that make me remember days of gold light." He looked kind of smug.

Ken counted it off on his fingers. "It used to take me hours at school to do that, running over it again and again until it was exactly thirty one syllables."

"The neophyte tries to master the art of waka, little does he know that it takes patience, metre and a quick tongue, he says." Aya answered with a smile, answering him with another waka.

"He says was added on there to make it fit wasn't it?" Yohji asked, "because it doesn't fit with the meaning." He looked at a cow that they passed in the field, "don't worry, Ken, I was always better at limericks myself. But they all seemed to start there was a young girl with no luck."

"Enough." Aya snapped, "Omi's here. Your haiku was very good, Omi, it just takes practise. You just had too many syllables, you don't need to learn them you know. A Maiko isn't supposed to talk at conversation."

"I know," Omi said, "but I'm supposed to be your apprentice, when did you get so good at them?"

"My father," Aya answered sadly, "we used to have competitions as to who would have the best haiku or waka, you never had time to work one out and the other would count the syllables. It was fun, I miss it." He fell silent and the others didn't interrupt the silence, Aya never spoke of his family. "When you get the hang of it, we can do it in the Okiya, okay, Omi, until you become good at it."

"Thanks, Aya," Omi said diving forward to glomp him. "You're the best."

"I know." Aya answered loosely, "but it's not polite to gloat."

"There was a young lady called Aya." Yohji said in a sing song voice, "who was a very good liar, for the smiles from her fan hid the fact she was a man, men learned when they tried to buy her."

Ken sniggered under his hand.

"There was a young man called Balinese," Aya retorted with a smile, "who asked all the young ladies please, if they're eighteen, he said, I'll take them to bed, with never a thought for disease."

Ken burst out laughing, and Yohji frowned for a moment. Even Omi was laughing.

"Red hair falling on white linen reminds me of quickened breath and smiles." Yohji answered with a haiku.

"And the smell of cigarettes I associate with rapid pleasure." Ken was biting his fist to stop laughing as Yohji, determined to win, was outmanned by Aya at every poetical turn.

"White skin and violet eyes are a fair judgment of when a heart is as cold as ice and the words sharp. There indeed a barren landscape."

"Waka," Aya said with a raised eyebrow. "Golden skin and golden touch, the soft waves of the ocean upon sandy shores, as inconstant as the tide and just as faithless."

"Give up, Yotan," Omi said looking between them, "Aya's winning hands down. He's good enough to be published."

"If we continue, we are going to be doing sonnets." Aya answered, "though the practise is nice. Murasakiiro will be a sensation if this continues."

"Will you write one for me?" Omi asked.

"Innocence is the way that light falls upon jaded blue eyes in spring." Aya answered without a thought.

Omi quickly scribbled it down, and then looked at it chewing on his pencil. "Thank you, Ayan," he said, "I just wanted one to make it look like I could write them, but you wrote it about me, didn't you?" Aya said nothing, just arranged the line of his skirt again and lifted his book.

Ken went to say something but Aya cut him off. "Gentle and simple, honest and proud, I am honoured to call him friend."

"Thank you," Ken said blinking, "but I wasn't going to ask that. When are we due in Gion?"

Aya looked at the expensive silver watch that Manx had given him "an hour or so, as long as the train isn't held up by anything. Why?"

"Bored." Ken said, "though watching you run rings around Yohji is always fun." A man appeared at the door, "show time." Ken murmured. The sarariman opened the door, "Is it all right if I sit here?" he asked politely. He was a large man in his mid forties with hair that was badger striped grey and he wore a pin stripe blue suit that made him look fatter than he was. He had a fake alligator skin briefcase but his shoes were expensive. He smelled of almonds.

"Certainly." Aya said softening his voice slightly, "the more the merrier." He raised his book again, "if you gentlemen don't mind of course."

"It's not a problem, Murasakiiro-sama." Ken said, clearing a pile of papers between him and Yohji, Yohji scooted over on the bench.

"That's an unusual name," the man said. Aya managed a pleasant blush at the compliment, just a pink flush around his neck and ears. "And almost as lovely as yourself, miss," he crossed his legs and arranged his briefcase on his lap. "Do you mind if I ask where the name comes from?" Aya raised his eyes and looked at him. "Such lovely eyes," the man said, "I see why you're named for them." Yohji growled.

"Is there a problem, Ta-kun?" Aya asked Yohji firmly.

"No, Murasakiiro-sama." Yohji answered, although he didn't like the idea of Aya being approached by any man.

"Is this your first time in Kyoto?" The man asked.

Aya managed a pretty smile to match the flush, "a sister of mine is unable to work and so I am going to cover for her, perhaps you could see me in Kyoto?" Aya made a distinct point of crossing his legs, "Ask of me, I am sure someone will guide you to the tea-house where I am working."

The man did a few moments of thinking and realised that Aya was a geisha, if only for the mission, "certainly, Murasakiiro-sama, it would be an honour, if you don't mind me asking, what is your art, your gei?"

Aya closed the book on his lap, "Haiku," he answered breathily, "I am a master of haiku, my voice lacks the sweetness for song and my fingers the quickness for kouta, although I dance fairly my talent is for haiku," the man nodded, "if you don't mind me asking, may I have your name?"

"Seichiiro Furusawa." The man stammered, twisting the wedding ring on his finger as if deciding whether or not to take it off.

Aya made a distinct point of repeating the name as if he was doing his best to remember it. "Furusawa-san, do I make you uncomfortable? Surrounded by my entourage as you are, and I am hardly attired to meet with guests." His laugh had been practised over the past few weeks with Manx until he had a perfect courtesan's laugh, a sound that exuded sex with just a toss of his red hair. "You must pay attention, Aoi-kun," he looked at Omi, "to remember how not to treat your guests."

"No, Murasakiiro-sama." The man was shaking now, "It is an honour to speak with you." He said, "you have no need to speak to me, I am just a sarariman on my way home, I'm sorry to have disturbed you."

"Nonsense," Aya said leaning forward, "it is always an honour to speak with someone new, in fact my Kaasan says a stranger is just a friend we haven't met yet, surely you agree with this." Furusawa nodded dumbly as Ken did his best not to snicker. "I am making you uncomfortable," Aya said, "what is it that you do, Furusawa-san?"

"I work in accounts," Furusawa said, and instead of adding on that Aya cocked his head as if he was interested, "I manage payroll for a part of the local government here in Kyoto."

"What an important job," Aya said, "so many people rely on you, you must get a sense of reward for doing it." He said.

"Not really," Furusawa said.

"No, you must be, working for the government, if you don't do your job them nothing happens, you make sure that the people get paid so they do their jobs. If you didn't do your job properly then I'm sure that all of Kyoto would just grind to a halt." Furusawa began to primp, just a little bit, puffing out his chest as Aya turned all of his training towards him. "I would take a lot of pride in my job if I did something as important as you, myself I only offer a sanctuary against the world, a place where men come to be entertained, by one such as myself, a humble artist." He lowered his eyes as if showing a perfect show of humility.

"Next stop Kyoto station," the tannoy hollered out, "next stop Kyoto station, all change at Kyoto station."

Yohji and Ken stood up and started to get down their bags, including Aya's heavy chest from the overhead luggage store. "Next time," Yohji muttered, "we drive, no matter what Manx says."

"It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Furusawa-san." Aya said with a low bow, showing the nape of his neck to the blushing sarariman. "I am staying at the Ichirogo Okiya, if you wish to request me." He said and then picking up a small clutch purse made his way out of the small train's cabin.

"Do you think he will, Murasakiiro-sama?" Omi asked from his side.

"Probably not," Ken answered, "Murasakiiro-sama is highly prized. He may request her but she may not have the time." It was a polite way of saying that even an untried geisha from the Kritiker stables, who had spent a whole week learning with the geisha of Tokyo, was well above the prices that he could afford.

* * *

Thank you all so much for your reviews, and please appreciate my terrible haiku, i spent ages counting them out on my fingers and drawing little iamb diagrams so that it worked.

Next stop the Ichirogo Okiya, mwa ha ha


	5. Aya's stalker

Part 5

The Okiya in Gion was a rustic affair that eyed Omi and Ken with a sort of naked hunger. The Okiya in Gion were prized for their Maiko and so as soon as they announced that that was what Omi was pretending to be the Obasan and Kaasan of the Okiya adopted him as their favourite daughter and took to dressing him themselves. Ken was lusted after not as a handsome man, but as a strong man that would be perfect for some of the chores that their aged retainer had let slip over the years. As Manx had said Yohji was put to work in a neighbouring tea house and as such was lodged in a low rent hotel where the others were put up in the Okiya. Aya and Omi shared a room with each other, both of which had soft white futons and heavy blankets, Ken, on the other hand, shared a room with the other servants and his futon was uncomfortable and lumpy. Where Aya and Omi were encouraged to sleep until at the very earliest ten Ken was woken at dawn.

* * *

They had arrived in the Okiya amidst a flurry of white roses and dark purple lilies all addressed to Murasakiiro from Crawford. Ken looked at him funny as he carried the heavy boxes up the stairs. Omi helped Aya put the flowers in vases before he raised a single blonde eyebrow. "You have to tell me." Omi said, "I can keep a secret." He said.

"There's no secret to tell." Aya said arranging the flowers in the vases. "He was at a party."

"Murasakiiro," the Okasan of the Okiya said entering the Okiya's small kitchen. "Aoi, I was not told that ikebana was part of your gei."

Omi turned to her with a large and beaming grin, "we work in a florists." He said, "we can arrange flowers."

The Okasan, a small withered woman with a strict expression, frowned. "When a geisha performs ikebana she sits at a counter, she does not stand over the sink. Now sit, I will have Reiichi make you tea." Both Aya and Omi paled, Reiichi was the name that Kritiker had given Ken.

"That's fine," Omi said, "I could do with practising the art of tea making."

"It's poisonous." Aya confessed, "Reiichi couldn't make tea if you stood over him, it seems perfect and then you taste it and you're lucky if you don't go blind."

"Then we shall teach him," she said, "the okasan of the Tokyo Okiya has sent word of your triumph, but the men of Gion are not the men of Tokyo, though judging by the display that preceded your arrival you were well received. Now talk to me about this Mr Crawford that sent you such flowers and has already called three times to request your presence waiting upon him."

Aya swore.

Then he swore again as the Okasan cracked him across the head with her fan.

"I asked you to tell me about this Mr Crawford, not to blaspheme and curse. It is not fitting for a lady to swear and less so for a geisha, I will introduce you both to the other geisha, but start talking."

"He's gaijin." Aya answered brusquely. "he works for Takatori." He managed to make the word grate out and nearly spat it out with vitriol, "he's rich, and sophisticated for an American, but he is the enemy. Leave me alone with him and I will kill him." She cracked him around the back of the head with the fan again.

"Gaijin or no any man that sends that many flowers and offers that much money for your time is worth visiting. Kill him and you will blow your cover here in Gion. I will arrange a lunch date with you for tomorrow. You will not work tonight. You are going to spend the evening showing me that you can dress yourself and Chiisai Aoi and I are going to have a little talk."

Aya murmured off muttering "must not kill Crawford, must not kill Kaasan."

* * *

Crawford stood up when the geisha entered the small private dining room of the Hiiragiya hotel. She wore a pale silver grey kimono decorated with a dragon fly motif in a shimmering clear thread and her obi was a dark rich purple diamond design with scarlet inlays. He had half convinced himself that he had imagined her beauty. Her feet were bare, which shocked him. Behind her was the maiko he had been told that she had been sent to train, she wore a stiff kimono with her hair coiled into the split fashion that maiko wore, and her face painted like a japanese doll, her eyes were blue, and the kimono she wore dragged on the floor. "Crawford-san." Murasakiiro said bowing her head and arranging herself gracefully on the floor, "it is my pleasure to attend you this afternoon, this is my imouto Aoi, this is her time of learning by imitation, if she makes you feel uncomfortable I can return her to the Okiya."

"It is fine, Murasakiiro-sama." Crawford said, bowing to the girl, and noticing her huge blue eyes. She was a pretty girl, pleasantly rounded with soft coltish limbs, but she lacked the amazing and quite striking features of the lovely Murasakiiro. "Aoi-sama, I am pleased to make your acquaintance. My name is Bradley Crawford." Aoi bowed her head, not as gracefully as Murasakiiro but there was promise in the gesture.

"I am honoured, Crawford-san." Aoi said, sitting behind Murasakiiro. There was a hint of steel in the girlish voice, Crawford noticed, which would suit Murasakiiro's maiko.

"Tell me, Aoi-sama, of your art." Aoi lowered her head and would not match his gaze.

"Aoi's talent is for dance." Murasakiiro said sweeping in gracefully to save the girl, "but she has come late to it and it would be cruel to ask her to perform. She is young yet with a bright future at Ichirogo ahead of her." She poured Crawford a bowl of the hot green tea that he had had prepared for her. She did not attempt the tea ceremony, Crawford noticed, most geisha did.

"Surely your own okiya miss you, Murasakiiro-sama." Crawford said, "and if not you then surely the revenue such a famous geisha can bring in."

"It is impolite to speak of such things in front of a geisha." Murasakiiro said firmly, then sipped her tea smoothing out the gesture. "My own okiya is small and the opportunities in Hokkaido were lacking, so they sent me to Tokyo where I received the request to be the aneki for Aoi-chan." She turned and smiled fondly at the girl, "and I was honoured. I find myself greatly in love with Gion."

Crawford laughed. "Would you like some tea, Aoi-sama?" He asked. He didn't know the etiquette of these meetings.

"No, thank you, Crawford-san." Aoi said lowering her head. "But thank you very much for thinking of me."

"She lacks your tart wit," Crawford mused looking at Murasakiiro.

"Certainly, what is prized in a geisha is frowned upon in a maiko." Murasakiiro answered sharply. "Where I am flattered for my sharp tongue and droll humour she would overstep her manners, this is called _minarai_, she is learning by observation."

"And what if I gave her something to observe?" Crawford asked with a smile.

Murasakiiro's eyes widened and she blushed clear to the roots of her hair. Crawford decided he enjoyed making her blush. "I would be forced to slap you with my fan," Murasakiiro said recovering some of her composure. "Aoi is only fourteen years old and even if I welcomed such attentions, Crawford-san, then it would not be fitting in front of my maiko. She is a long time from her _mizuage_." She tilted her head to show a length of smooth white neck, not explaining the word but trusting that he would understand it. Sitting patiently Aoi blushed as deeply as Murasakiiro had. "And besides, this is only our second meeting, and it's considered very forward for a girl to put out on the second date."

Crawford looked at Murasakiiro for a moment and then he burst out laughing. His entire face softened as he laughed, the lines vanished from the corners of his eyes and his glasses slipped along his nose. Murasakiiro covered her confusion at this reaction by filling his teacup. "Then the kiss we shared, was that very forward of you?"

"You stole that kiss, Crawford-san." Murasakiiro answered, "I had no preparation for it." she tilted her head as she sipped her tea as Aoi made a little gasp sound behind them.

"Then how many dates must we have before you will kiss me?" Crawford asked, his glasses flashed almost ominously.

"How very forward of you to ask, Crawford-san." Murasakiiro answered with a smile. "And it's traditional to wait for the third date."

Aoi smothered a giggle as Crawford laughed. "Then I will just have to arrange a third date with you, Murasakiiro-sama." He paused for a moment. "Isn't there an abbreviation of your name that I could use, after all Murasakiiro-sama is just a little of a mouthful."

Murasakiiro blushed again at the thinly veiled euphemism. "Saki-chan." She muttered almost under her breath.

"I am honoured that you would let me call you that."

* * *

"Saki-chan?" Omi asked as they sat in the car.

"Shut up." Aya growled.

"Saki-chan?" Omi asked again. "Isn't that what that twit at the flower shop wanted you to call her?" He was rocking back and forth in laughter.

"I had to come up with it on the spot." Aya protested.

"And you kissed him, okay you kissed him on the last meeting, but you kissed Crawford."

"Shut up." Aya shouted. "He kissed me."

"But you kissed the cold oracle of Schwarz." Omi was pointing now. "Nagi said that he was so asexual that he was built like action man with trademark underwear, and you kissed him."

"I kept your little romance with prodigy secret from the rest of Weiss." Aya said sharply crossing his legs as much as the tightly bound kimono would allow him. "I believe I can ask the same of you."

"That's blackmail, Aya." Omi said sobering.

"Why I believe you're right. Say a word to Yohji and all of Tokyo, especially Ouka, will know of your little romance."

The colour drained from Omi's face under the paint. "You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?"

"You're right." Omi said soberly, "it is sexual harassment and you shouldn't have to stand for it. And you didn't give him a pet name or agree to meet him at his hotel for drinks tomorrow afternoon."

Aya lowered his head in his hands. "Don't remind me. Yohji's going to kill me."

"That's if we tell him." Omi said in a low voice.

"Blackmail, Omi?" Aya asked, a little shocked that sweet little Omi would consider such a thing.

"More of an insurance policy." Omi replied with a winning smile. "I won't say a word to Yohji and you don't say a word about Nagi and me to Crawford ever."

Aya offered his hand, Omi took it and they shook on the deal.

"You do know I am going to tease you about this, probably forever." Omi added. "Did you get frostbite when he kissed you?"

"Shi-ne."


	6. Like Tom Cruise in that movie

Author's note

Something I forgot to mention in previous chapters, Murasakiiro is the Japanese word for the colour violet, hence all the references to Aya's eyes, and Aoi is blue. This is also set in the second half of the first season, late enough that they've met Schwarz but Takatori is still alive. Should have mentioned that earlier really. But I lost my disclaimer somewhere along the way. Gion is _the _place to be a Geisha apparently, in Kyoto, and Crawford's hotel was filched from a guidebook as the most expensive in Kyoto. Many thanks for Liza Dalby for doing the research I filched.

Kaasan is mother, its traditional for people in an Okiya (geisha house) to refer to each other like that, obasan is aunt, aneki is older sister and imouto is younger sister. Should have mentioned that too.

And thank you all sooooo much for reviewing, it does make you more productive

* * *

Part 6

Crawford appraised himself in the mirror warily. "_You look fine_." Schuldig said in his head, "_in fact you look like Tom Cruise in that movie._"

"What?" Crawford asked, pulling out the lines of the kimono further. "The last samurai?"

"_No_," Schuldig laughed, "_Legend, the one where he was in the gold sequinned mini skirt_." He laughed some more and looked through Crawford's eyes at the expression on his face, "_Ja, ja_," Schuldig said, "_you'll kill me when you get home_."

"Painfully." Crawford added adjusting the lines of his kimono again. He had had these clothes laid out by the hotel and after some deliberation had decided to wear them. There were a pair of heavy grey pants with a wooden board in the back to help his posture, and a dark green kimono that went over a white shirt. The maid who had helped him dress had named the pieces of clothing and dressed him in front of the mirror without ever once looking at his face. He had put on contacts and was now incredibly nervous. Other people were walking around the hotel in much less, in fact one man from Kyushu was only wearing a yukuta that didn't fasten properly the last time Crawford had seen him.

He smoothed out the lines of the kimono once more and looked down at what he was half sure was a pair of culottes rather than sophisticated trousers, that made him feel a little naked, but when in Gion...

* * *

"You can't make me do it." Aya said looking at the door with horror. "You can't make me."

"We can and we will." Kaasan said from behind him. She was waving a black lacquered fan in a rather threatening manner. Omi stood behind her with a scroll under his arm, he was wearing a sailor uniform with a blue pleated skirt, although he didn't attend the local high school he did wear their uniform.

"You don't understand." Aya protested. "He's my worst enemy."

"Nevertheless." Kaasan said reaching into her obi and pulling out a small wooden box which she opened carefully. "He has sent this necklace and you will wear it tonight because you know full well that he will be there. If he is as much of a stalker as you say then you should show appreciation of your gift when you don't expect him to be there."

"But." Aya protested. "I shouldn't have to wear such a thing from a man I have every intention of killing the instant I can." He looked at the string of sapphires again. "And they're pink."

"Now, Saki-chan." Omi said just a little patronisingly. "Pink sapphires are more valuable than blue ones, and they're almost the colour of your eyes." Aya glared at him. "And it will make a lovely choker."

"No."

"Yes." Kaasan added.

"I am not putting a choker on from a man that has every intention of choking me." Aya protested again. "How do I know it's not rigged?"

"You said it yourself," Omi said quietly, "he's Oracle of Schwarz, not the Boston Strangler." Aya's answering glare took ten years off his life. "He's from California, he can't be the Boston Strangler." Omi said, "now put this on before I get Ken to do it."

The colour drained from Aya's face at the thought of Ken doing up a dainty piece of jewellery, Ken who would either strangle him with it trying to get it to fasten or just snap it. "All right." He knelt down letting Omi reach and lifted his hair extensions up so that Omi could fasten the chain. "But I am not letting you forget this."

"Aya," Omi said with a winning smile, "you never let me forget."

* * *

Like all the other geisha Murasakiiro looked up when the man entered the party late. He apologised profusely but never raised his head. His dark hair obscured his face and she put him down to being another rich sarariman or politician dabbling in the demimonde. She gave him little thought as she outstretched her pale white hand and poured more sake for the distinguished minister of the interior. The minister of the interior looked at the newcomer and then did a double take and bowed in deference. This made Murasakiiro look at him again. He was dressed in traditional robes that she was of the opinion could make a rock look sexy, with a ruddy health to his cheeks and dark hair that was pleasantly tousled. The expression he wore was pleasantly smug and then she met his eyes. They were the colour of amber. She swallowed the curse in her throat but raised her chin to show the choker she had worn. Crawford had come, and he had come in traditional dress.

"I did not just find him sexy." Murasakiiro thought to herself, doing her best to repress a flush. "I did not just find my absolute worst enemy, the man who stops me from killing Takatori, sexy. It's the clothes, it must be." She looked Crawford over once again. The wide legged hakama made him look taller and they gave him fantastic posture where the kimono gave him a presence that was lacking from his business suits. He looked like a samurai.

A lot of the other guests were wearing traditional robes, but not one of them managed to look quite as sexy as they did it. "It's the clothes," she thought, "everyone looks good dressed like that."

"Crawford-san." The minister of the interior said standing and offering Crawford a seat next to him, "have you had the pleasure of meeting the lovely Murasakiiro-sama?" The minister of the interior, Yamagada Akimoto, showed Crawford Murasakiiro with a wave of the hand. "She is fast becoming the talk of Gion."

"I can say that I have been thus blessed." Crawford answered looking at Murasakiiro with a look of undisguised hunger, as if he might at any time just reach over and gobble her up. Aya suddenly flushed again, thinking that he kind of liked being looked at like that. "And it is my greatest pleasure to surprise her, she is rarely caught unawares."

"The women of today," Akimoto said accepting the cup the Murasakiiro had filled for him, "they have no sense of place, in fact if not for these havens among the geisha I fear I would have to lobby for them to have the vote removed. There is no place for women in the workplace."

Crawford stifled a shocked laugh with a nervous cough the expression on Murasakiiro's face might rightly be called a death glare. "On the contrary, Akimoto-san," she said leaning forward and filling her own glass with sake, "the women of today are in fact much more reserved than the women of previous generations, although geisha such as myself are honoured for their wit there is much pleasure to be had in the company of geisha like Ichigo or Ichimomo, but they are hardly as prized as we modern women." Her tone was sweet and her voice breathy, "and men cannot appreciate how attractive it is that you look in that kimono."

Akimoto stuttered for a few moments and then regained his composure and did his best to smile. "But yet Murasakiiro-sama, do you wisely use your vote?"

Murasakiiro smiled, just a little, "I know who I do not vote for." She answered sweetly. She flashed her eyes at Crawford. "I do not know whether I should be honoured at your devotion, Crawford-san, or simply frightened that you seem intent on following me."

Crawford laughed. "Judging by the pride with which you wear your sapphires then I would say honoured." He reached forward and lifted Murasakiiro's jaw to see the line of pink stones that surrounded her throat. "Does this constitute as our third date I wonder?" He breathed the words into her ear and she swallowed and then blushed brightly. "I do enjoy seeing that flush spread along your neck."

Murasakiiro steeled herself and then slapped him on the hand with the fan. "Crawford-san," she said and there was no sweetness in her voice, "this is not the time nor the place for such overt displays of affection, you will have Minister Akimoto believing that even the votes of geisha such as I can be swayed with a line of sapphires."

Crawford laughed again, sitting back on his heels. "Is it the place of such a beautiful woman to talk about politics?" He asked, archly.

"I believe it is the only remaining topic we are to discuss." She answered, "but if I am too knowledgeable I wonder if you would mistake me for Asaji Washizu, or her English equivalent, Lady Macbeth?"

Crawford smiled, it was a dark thing, as if he had seen prey that he more than anything wanted to catch, "Would you be Lady Macbeth?" He asked, "managing her lord from the shadows before finally going mad." Crawford answered, "no, Murasakiiro-sama, there are other women I would compare you to, with no need for politics."

"You seem well read, Murasakiiro-sama." Akimoto said, tilting his head.

"It is the nature of my gei," she answered lowering her eyes, "how can I cage the mood of a moment if I cannot see how others have."

Akimoto seemed to accept this answer. "Then will you honour us with your gei?" He asked.

Murasakiiro flicked narrow violet eyes to Crawford and then she smiled. "I would be honoured but alas I have nothing prepared and the one poem I know by heart I have already performed for Crawford-san, and fear I would not amuse him twice with such a doggerel."

"Then your own poetry must be something of wonder, for the poem you read to me was a work of American pride." Crawford said.

"that I know," Murasakiiro answered, "but I have no intention of reading it twice." She turned her head, checking the time on the wall. "And if you gentlemen would excuse me, I have other obligations this evening."

"Is this your first party of the night?" Crawford asked, standing up at the same time Murasakiiro did.

"No, Crawford-san, this is my third." She answered. "It seems that I am as popular in Gion as I was in Tokyo. Akimoto-san, I am more than honoured that my presence has amused and flattered you, I will tell Okasan that she is to accept any more invitations from your party." She bowed her head. "Crawford-san, it is always a pleasant surprise."

"I'll walk you out." He said, offering her his arm, like a knight in a story book. He waited patiently whilst she knelt at the door to open it and then shuffled through. "Akimoto is an insufferable ass." He said, plainly, offering her his hand to help her up. Her hand was pale and slender and hot to the touch, although Murasakiiro looked like she had been carved from marble her skin was hot. "I'm sorry about what he said."

"It is not your fault, Crawford-san." Murasakiiro answered quietly, "but thank you for thinking so well of me that you would see me to the door and apologise on his behalf, many of the older men in politics have no idea of a woman's worth." There was more steel in that than Murasakiiro probably intended. Crawford reached out and lifted her jaw to show the line of sapphires again, here in the corridor out of the gaze of prying eyes. "Crawford-san." She said turning her head away.

"I'm going to kiss you now, Saki-chan, if you don't want me to, you just have to say." He answered, giving her a few moments in which she batted her eyes furiously, trying to make sense of what was happening, and then he reached forward and pressed his lips against hers, his hands however never strayed from where they had been, one on her shoulder and the other on her jaw.

After a few minutes Murasakiiro pushed him away, gently, as if she didn't really want to. "I can't do this," she said, "I'm sorry, I have a boyfriend."

Crawford's face mottled for a moment as he thought. Then he smiled. "No problem," he said, "I'll just have to steal you away." He reached forward and kissed her again, just lightly. "And remember that we have an appointment tomorrow at three for afternoon tea."

* * *

Aya went straight back to the Okiya and poured himself a long tall glass of Okasan's liquor, which he emptied in a single swallow and then refilled. "You're back early." Ken said sitting at the table. "It's barely two o'clock."

Aya drank more of the whiskey and coughed slightly. "He's going to steal me away." He said to himself in complete misery.

"Is this your mystery customer?" Ken asked, patting Aya's hand as if he possibly understood. Aya nodded and looked like he might burst out crying at any moment. "I'm sure he doesn't mean any harm, even if he is a bit stalkerish, just tell him you have a boyfriend."

"I did." Aya almost wailed. "He says he's going to steal me away. And now I have to see him tomorrow."

"You never have this problem when Yohji's telling everyone he loves you and that he's your boyfriend, hang on a minute he's not this mystery customer is he?" Ken's simple face frowned.

"No," he leant forward. "It's Crawford." he whispered. "And if this carries on I think he's going to propose."

Ken burst out laughing. "Crawford as in Schwarz Crawford." He asked through the chortles. "Well he didn't see this one coming, did he?"


	7. Afternoon tea

Part 7

Yohji Kudoh had the sneaky suspicion that all was not going to plan. He was working as a retainer in a teahouse and listened in on all the conversations that he possibly could, and all he was hearing again and again was that some gaijin was working wonders in charming the geisha Murasakiiro. In fact in Gion people spoke of geisha with the same wonder that Tokyo people spoke of idols. It was the scandal of Gion that this new and rather fabulous geisha was being wooed by a gaijin of all people, and that they had met every day since she had come to Gion to patronise her maiko. It was a terrible scandal, made all the worse since even though Aya would deny it he pretty much accepted Yohji as his boyfriend, a role that he was playing for this mission, and now he was letting himself be wooed by a customer.

If it was for the mission Yohji got the distinct impression that he should have been told. Omi had been to see him twice, regaling him with tales of Aya's triumph and explaining that Aya was constantly busy, busy with this gaijin. Ken saw him daily, telling stories of the little things that they did in the Okiya, and showed him the terrible scratch of his face where Aya had kicked him for tickling his feet when painting his toenails, but no one mentioned this mysterious gaijin. He flicked open his cell phone and dialled the Okiya.

Ken answered the phone. "Ichirogo Okiya." He said.

"It's me." Yohji said, "is Aya available?"

"No, not really." Ken said, it sounded like he was avoiding the topic. "I'll just check his itinerary." Yohji heard the sound of pages flipping. "He's got afternoon tea at the Hiiragiya hotel with one of his most persistent clients, there's an hour and a half window at six, if it finishes on time, come here and you can eat supper with him."

"You're pencilling me in?" Yohji was a little offended.

"Aya would have charged you, he's fast becoming the most popular geisha in town. The other geisha are jealous, someone sent him cakes laced in ipecac this morning, but you know that Omi's the only one with a sweet tooth so he's been babied because the muffins ran through him like a dose of the salts." There was the sound of a paper door sliding. "I'll catch up with you later, Aya will be back around sixish, he normally has a bath before he goes out for the evening at eight, it's when he normally eats."

"Who is this infamous gaijin?" Yohji growled down the phone.

"Look, I have to go, Kaasan has a very large bundle of dry cleaning and is looking at me funny. I'll see you at six." The line went dead.

Yohji made his mind up there and then. He was going to tail Aya and find out who this mysterious gaijin was, and scare him off. He would of to the Hiiragiya hotel, even if it was the most exclusive in Kyoto and make sure that this gaijin was not taking advantage of his Aya.

* * *

Murasakiiro was wearing a dark lilac dress chased through with silver thread with a scoop neck that showed the line of sapphires at her throat, her long red hair was loose about her wide shoulders, the line of the skirt was ragged falling in uneven lengths about her legs. She wore stockings and a pair of ankle boots with a small heel. She sat in the lobby of the Hiiragiya hotel sipping on what the barman told Yohji was a vodka and orange. The man who sat opposite her was handsome in a foreign way, with loose short black hair that was mostly held back by gel but a few errant locks fell across a smooth forehead, his eyes were large and seemed to be the colour of amber, and he was laughing with genuine amusement at what Murasakiiro was saying. 

Yohji had seen Aya in his Murasakiiro guise before, but never with such delicate care taken to flatter her alien features. She was leaning forward and putting her hand on his. The man seemed to ripen under the gesture and Yohji growled with jealousy. So this was the gaijin no hentai that was making moves on his Aya, but he couldn't just murder him because truthfully he had done nothing wrong, yet. Unless he was the person that had sent the doctored muffins. He might have, thinking that Omi would have eaten them and then wouldn't follow Aya around, giving him time with her alone, time he might use to do anything.

Yohji was taken out of his theory when Murasakiiro laughed, she cast back her head in a shower of long scarlet hair and twin gold pendant earrings and laughed. Yohji's dark temper just fumed a little darker, it was enough that he had sent the muffins. He had made his Aya laugh, out loud, and looked so sexy when he did it. Maybe it was the geisha training and the additional Kudoh seminar but everything Aya did now reminded him of sex. Kritiker had hired a stage dresser to promote the image that Aya was a woman, and the violet and silver dress hugged curves Aya really didn't have. He got the impression that if he leant in close that Aya would smell of jasmine and orange blossom.

The gaijin was wearing a dark suit but without a tie and he struck Yohji as being very familiar but he couldn't for the life of him say where he had seen him before. He reached into his jacket and handed her a pair of tickets.

She squealed a little excitedly, then reached forward and kissed him on the cheek obviously excessively pleased at the pair of tickets. If a man gave a woman a pair of tickets he was obviously expecting her to invite him as well. She sat back, realising what she had done and blushing prettily.

Yohji swallowed a ball of jealousy. Those blushes were supposed to be his, he had spent a long time wooing Aya and this gaijin had just swooped in with expensive gifts and stolen him away.

The gaijin would have to suffer for this. Oh, yes, he would suffer, nobody stole Aya from Yohji, nobody.

* * *

"Saki-chan, that man watching us, and being lousy at being surreptitious, is that your boyfriend?" Crawford asked. "Don't stare, by the bar." 

Murasakiiro flicked her eyes across, then smiled. "Jealous Ta-kun." She said fondly, "yes, Crawford-san, that is my boyfriend."

"You could do better." Crawford said, "you could have someone that would trust you."

Murasakiiro cast her head back and laughed, "he does trust me, Crawford-san, it's you he doesn't trust. You have stolen all my time away from him, in truth I have seen more of you this last week than him. All of Gion is talking of our "little romance" and I think he just wants to check that nothing untoward is happening."

"Speaking of which," Crawford said looking around, "where is our little chaperone?"

"Chiisai Aoi?" Murasakiiro asked picking up her glass and swirling the liquid within it. "I was a victim of sabotage this morning. I received a basket of muffins, Aoi ate one, but it seems that someone covered them in ipecac. She won't be joining me for several days."

Crawford sniggered. "I trust those muffins were intended for you, Saki-chan."

She nodded sagely, "I think that they thought that such a gift that I would assume to be from you and would be unable to work for days. I don't know whether I should be flattered that the other geisha consider me so much of a threat when your largesse has been less here in Gion."

"Is that a hint?" Crawford asked with a wry smile.

"Certainly not, I was merely saying that word of the gifts that you gave me in Tokyo has not reached here." She reached forward and touched his hand. "I know that you are just teasing me, but I can't help but feel these are dangerous times for the geisha."

"He's still looking at you, do you think the okiya sent him?" Crawford said referring to their uninvited guest.

"Ta-kun?" Murasakiiro asked, "no certainly not, they know that nothing untoward will happen, will it, Crawford-san?"

"Oh, I don't know." Crawford's smile was distinctly wolfish, "I might steal another kiss, but I think you might kiss me for this." He reached into his jacket and pulled out two tickets.

"Ohmigod, you got tickets to the noh," she gasped, jumping forward and kissing him on both cheeks. "I couldn't, it's been booked up for months, did you have to kill anyone to get these?"

"I remember you saying you wanted to go, it's for next Thursday, that's not too soon is it, Saki-chan?" Crawford was suddenly bashful. "I just had to pull some strings."

"Thursday will be wonderful. Thank you so much for thinking of me." She was blushing again that she had reacted so vehemently.

"Believe me, Saki-chan, there's little else I do but think of you."

* * *

Aya took off his high heeled boots in the door well of the Okiya with obvious relief and stood against the wall for a few moments to let his head catch up. He was more than a little drunk. "Kaasan," he called out, "I need next Thursday free, I have invites to Noh." 

"Hello Aya." Yohji said from the hall. His voice was cold and hopefully ominous.

"Yotan," Aya said stumbling forward and kissing him on both cheeks, "I haven't seen you in days and days and days. I've been soooooo busy."

"You're drunk." Yohji said catching Aya as he stumbled into him.

"Just a little." Aya said making a gesture with his hand. "Had an appointment, but a geisha that can't hold her liquor is like a cockerel with no crow." He swept his hair back. "Not time for lunch, thought afternoon tea would involve food." He burped covering his mouth with his hand. "Involved vodka."

"And this gaijin..." Yohji pressed, putting his arm around Aya's waist.

"My stalker!" Aya said with a laugh. "He's nothing to worry about. He keeps kissing me, but I didn't have my fan today, so I couldn't hit him, but you never ask for me. I'm beginning to think that you don't love me anymore."

"Aya, you're drunk." Yohji said as Aya stumbled again.

"He drove me home." Aya explained trying to blink away the sensation of the room spinning, "and he gave me a cell so that he can phone me, because Kaasan won't let him phone me on the Okiya number. He makes me feel beautiful."

"Have you forgotten why we're here, Aya?" Yohji said, he was very jealous.

"Of course not," Aya answered as Yohji led him into the dining room where a pale looking Omi looked at a cup of tea, "we've a mission." He enunciated the words carefully.

"Murasakiiro-sama." Kaasan said patiently from where she knelt at the table next to Omi, "I take it that your appointment went well."

"Yes, Kaasan." Aya said, stealing Omi's tea and downing it in one gulp.

"I think it would be best if you laid your head down until later." She said frowning. "and sleep off some of that drunk, how many did you have?"

"Too many." Aya answered wavering. "It's lovely to see you, Yotan, but my bed is calling me if I'm going to be able to work tonight." He reached out, looking every inch the woman in his stockings and lilac dress and kissed him on the cheek before padding up the stairs and away leaving Yohji in a cloud of his sweet perfume.

"Don't worry about it." Ken said from behind him. "I don't think Aya's been sober since we came to Kyoto."

"He's been known to throw up to continue drinking." Omi said. Yohji blinked, even he had never stooped that low. "The teahouses make their money from overpricing the drinks, the geisha has to keep up with the customer and encourage him to drink. He'll sleep off the worst of it, eat and then go out tonight and do it all again. The hangovers are definitely priceless." Omi had absolutely no colour but Ken had said that he had been eating ipecac cakes earlier.

"Aren't you worried about his with this foreigner?" Yohji asked, he was terribly jealous.

"Aya can look after himself." Ken said "and apart from the ultra bran muffin incident this morning he's not on his own with him. You should see the gifts he gets. He's a sensation, you'd be so proud if you could see him." He laid the table with several bowls of rice. "He's just like you."

The colour drained from Yohji's face. "That's it." He said snapping apart his chopsticks that forcefully one of them broke in two. "I'm driving him tonight and I will kill his gaijin stalker."

"Fine." Kaasan said pushing more rice towards Omi, "but make sure he's paid him first."

* * *

In the next installment Murasakiiro is torn between two lovers, neither of which she'll admit she wants. 


	8. Sing a song of sixpence

Part 8

"Is Omi coming too?" Aya asked looking around the Okiya for his partner in this.

"Omi hasn't stopped being sick." Kaasan said folding her hands in front of her. "Ken and I will watch over him, Obachan is attending to the other geisha, your friend, Yohji, will be escorting you tonight."

Aya paled. Rather than the usual round of parties tonight Murasakiiro was attending one exclusive party held by an important figure in Kyoto politics and instead of a kimono wore an expensive ball gown in a very dark blue velvet, her hair was pulled up into a twist and the only jewellery she wore was the string of pink sapphires around her throat and the twin gold pendant earrings. There was a white satin scarf over her shoulders and the other three geisha in the okiya were ready to murder her that she had been invited where they had not. All the important men in the city were to be there. She didn't tell them she was there as Crawford's guest. "Is Yohji driving such a good idea? Doesn't he have work to do?" This rather loosely in her head translated as, "_I'm in deep trouble, he's really jealous, he followed me this afternoon and if you leave me alone in the car with him there is a chance he just might abduct me_. _And not only that he drives like a lunatic on amphetamines, if you value my life, please let me drive_."

"There is no one else to drive you." Murasakiiro went to say something. "And it is not fitting for a geisha to drive herself in the limousine." Kaasan cut her off quite sharply. "He will drive you there, you will meet Crawford-san who is paying a healthy amount for your time, and then you can call him and he can come and pick you up."

"Aya and Yohji sitting in a tree, f u c," Kaasan silenced Ken with a lacquered fan deftly applied to the back of the head.

"But..."

"It is not unusual for a geisha to be torn between two men." Kaasan said arranging the layers of Murasakiiro's skirt to her satisfaction to better show the white satin pumps she was wearing. "It will be the making of your fortune, especially as they are both such handsome men."

"But I don't want either of them." Murasakiiro protested. She fell silent for a moment and then touched the string of pale pink sapphires around her throat. "It's going to be hellish, I have to be a guest and not a host and Crawford's going to want me to dance and Yohji will be at the window spying, and I'm not a geisha, I'm an assassin-florist." Aya stopped realising just how stupid this sounded, then raised his head and went to the car muttering. "Must not kill Manx. Must not kill Persia."

* * *

Yohji held the door of the limousine open for Aya, after leaning in to lay a gentle kiss on his cheek. "You look, wow." He said, openly speechless at the transformation that they had worked on what had been, only a fortnight ago, a taciturn florist in a bright orange sweater. Now he looked every inch a movie star from light makeup and hair extensions that showed off the perfect sweep of his neck. Okay he was in drag, but he still looked a million dollars.

Yohji had made an effort. He was wearing a suit, albeit his shirt was pink, and had tied his blonde hair back in a pony tail. He had a pink rose in his button hole and he offered a bunch of roses to Aya.

Aya frowned, accepting the flowers. "Yohji, you're just driving me tonight." He said sadly, "until this mission is over you can't afford to take me out. I'm too busy and you can't pay for an hour with me."

"Why what's the going rate?"

Aya told him.

"Wow." He answered, "five hundred thousand yen a night?" He pressed.

"No," Aya said, "an hour."

Yohji thought he would faint. "and this gaijin can afford this?" He asked.

Aya nodded.

"Well if you're mercenary enough to do this." Yohji said opening the door for Aya.

"It's nothing to do with being mercenary, we have a mission, it's not my fault that I'm popular, I've never been popular. I shi-ne'd a client the other day and they laughed and my fee doubled." He climbed into the car arranging his floor length skirt. "I'm not talking about this."

"But you'll talk about it with him." Yohji snarled getting into the driver seat.

"Shi-ne, Kudoh."

* * *

An entire floor of the Kyoto Royal Hotel had been given over to the party, the limousine joined a queue and Yohji looked back at where Aya was sulking in the back. "You could at least look sorry." He said as they approached the main entrance where five bouncers were glaring at crowds that had gathered to see the high powered and famous of Kyoto gather for the party.

"I haven't done anything wrong." Aya answered, checking his makeup in a small compact that he had in a beaded clutch purse. "If anything I'm a victim of my own celebrity."

"You have distinctly avoided me." Yohji added.

"No, I haven't. I have been a geisha." Aya answered.

"But I love you." Yohji protested, pouting just a little, knowing no one could resist his pout.

"I'm not in the mood for this." Aya snapped. "I have to go in there a guest of my stalkerish gaijin customer and be nice to all these people, and the paper this morning said that Takatori would be there and I can't go in armed because I'm a geisha and there's no where in this dress to hide anything bigger than a safety pin." He stopped, out of rant.

"You could strangle him with that choker." Yohji said.

Aya touched it gently. "It is pink." He conceded.

* * *

Crawford gaped for a moment at how beautiful Murasakiiro was. She climbed out of the limousine with delicacy and grace showing just a hint of a long white leg and a white satin pump under a midnight blue velvet skirt that hinted at fluidity. He then took a deep breath and offered his arm to meet her. She smelt of hibiscus, orange blossom and night jasmine. "Crawford-san." She said with a faint and rather genuine smile.

"Saki-chan." He took her hand and grinned at her. For some reason all sensible thought had run out of his head in the instant that he had seen the string of pink sapphires around her pale column of a throat. She looked haunting. He was suddenly glad that his employer had demanded he attend this party, the other members of Schwarz were loitering around Takatori, Nagi making the most of the buffet, Schuldig doing his best to charm every attractive person within a thirty five foot radius and Farfarello humming under his breath some song that apparently hurt God. Sometimes Crawford wished he could leave them at home.

"_Way to go, Crawfish_," Schuldig said in his head, noticing his date for the evening. "_When you said you had a date I thought you'd found some like minded American business woman with more appointments than sense. But wow._"

Crawford looked clear at Schuldig over Murasakiiro's shoulder_. "Mine, and I am not sharing_." He thought back with a smile as he led her unto the floor for a dance.

"_Hell, I wouldn't either_." Schuldig said. "_Far says that hurting pretty women hurts God, but so does pink, so he's going to let her live_."

Crawford blinked, there was no making sense of Farfarello's madness sometimes. "_That's good to know_."

"You seem distracted, Crawford-san." Murasakiiro said looking up at him, she was almost of a height, but there was a bit of a difference. It made her thin violet coloured eyes almost haunting.

"It is nothing, Saki-chan, I just thought that I saw someone I knew." He said whirling her in time to the music.

"_Good cover, Crawfish_." Schuldig laughed. "_Mind if I cut in?"_

"_Try it and I'll cut you."_ Crawford answered

"You dance beautifully, Crawford-san." Murasakiiro said smiling at him. "Dancing with you is like dancing on the clouds."

"_Beautiful and eloquent_." Schuldig drawled. _"I'm sure you picked this beauty just for her sparkling conversation_."

"_Remember that Tom Cruise movie, Legend_." Schuldig's eyes narrowed for a moment trying to figure out where Crawford was going with this_, "If you don't shut up I'm going to bake you in a pie_. _And tell Nagi to go easy on those vol-au-vents if he doesn't want to be sick._"

Murasakiiro suddenly froze, as he was facing the rest of Schwarz Crawford knew that it couldn't be them, so he carefully turned her to see what she had seen. A tall broad man with a beard was stood next to a lovely red head in a kimono. Crawford would have laughed if he'd seen it coming. Shuiichi Takatori and his lovely secretary Hanae Kitada were really among the last people anyone expected to be here this evening.

Farfarello was suddenly a part of their mental link, rather than just humming maniacally he had decided it was much funnier to sing words _"sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye_." Crawford's eyes narrowed wondering where this was going, but having a sneaking suspicion. One didn't really have to be precognitive to see what this was leading to. "_Four and twenty Schuldig's baked in a pie, when the pie was opened the Schuldig's began to scat, now wasn't that a pretty dish to set before the cat. Oracle was in the counting house, counting all his money, Nagi was in the parlour, eating bread and honey, Farfarello was in the garden, hanging out the clothes, when down came a Schuldig and cut off his nose_." Even without a vision Crawford knew it was going to be a long night.

* * *

Aya caught Manx's eye and gestured to the ladies toilet. She frowned at him, and then met him by the mirrors. "Why didn't you let us know you were going to be here?" He hissed.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Manx asked, leaning back, she was wearing a dark red kimono with a white obi and her hair was carefully pulled away from her face with a pair of chopsticks.

"It's me, Abyssinian." Aya murmured, pulling up the fitted bodice of his gown.

Manx looked him up and down, "wow," she said, "photos don't do you boys justice, now do they? Why are you here?" She tilted his head as if looking for the place where the illusion that he was a woman ended.

"I got invited, Kaasan wouldn't let me not come. Was that woman an assassin as well, she's ruthless enough." Manx stifled a laugh. "I even have a date, and it's sexual harassment, I tell you. Had I known you were here I wouldn't have made an ass of myself in front of him either." He looked genuinely annoyed, and although he had never quite dared to grace her with one of his famous "shi-ne" glares, which Yohji maintained had five levels of strength, it looked like he was getting quite close.

"What did you tell him?" She asked.

"That I thought for a second I knew you. Schwarz is here, but there's no sign of Takatori." He looked around the small bathroom. "I can't stay in here long, he's not so much a date as a stalker, and there's only so long I can stay away before he gets worried I've jumped out of the window or something." He went to go but turned back. "Men really don't appreciate just how uncomfortable these shoes are." He rolled his shoulders.

"Aya," she called after him, "you look fantastic."

Crawford was waiting for him outside the bathrooms. "So, your real name is Aya?" He asked. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, more than annoyed he looked amused.

"Yes," he answered simply, "but I prefer Saki-chan because you are the only one to call me that."

He put his hands on his arms and leant forward, taking a deep breath along the edge of his neck, Aya felt his knees go weak and was glad that Crawford was holding up. He also got the distinct impression that he was about to be kissed again. "And if I want to call you Aya?" He asked, Aya could feel the heat of Crawford's body against him, less than a breath away, and could smell cinnamon on his breath. Whenever he had kissed him it had been just a light touch, not close enough to know that his breath tasted of cinnamon. A hand reached up to cup the back of his head. "_He's going to kiss me, Ohmigod, he's going to kiss me_." And the thought wasn't that unpleasant either.

Then Crawford moved, still leaning over Aya he suddenly turned his head to look at the man who had buffeted him. He was tall and thin, with bright ginger hair and a wry smirk. "Sorry to interrupt your wooing but you're wanted." He said in a nasal voice.

"I'll be there in a minute." Crawford snarled at him. "My apologies, Murasakiiro-sama." He said taking another lingering smell of her neck, "but my employer calls." His fingertips ghosted down the length of Aya's arm and lifted her hand to lay a soft and lingering kiss on the knuckles of her hand. He reached into his jacket with the other hand as he turned the hand and laid a second kiss in his palm, then raised his amber eyes with a look of distinct lust and laid a velvet box in the hand where he had kissed. Then with a wolfish smile and a reflected sheen on his glasses he left, leaving Aya standing against the wall and panting.

It took a few seconds for him to collect his thoughts, clutching the box as if it was his lifeline he left the hotel via a side exit and went to look for his limo home.

* * *

This is about $5000, and a high level Geisha in Gion can earn this.


	9. Sick chibis and lingerie

Part 9

With trembling fingers Aya held out the small velvet box, "just take it, it could be a bomb."

Omi rolled his eyes and lifted the box without the care Aya had given it and flicked it open, then his large eyes softened and he smiled. "It's..." He stopped, showing Aya the contents of the box. On a small satin cushion was a pendant, it was a white geisha carved on a bed of deep pink. It was, in fact, a cameo, and, judging by the expression on Omi's face, a very expensive one.

"What is this fascination he has with buying me pink things?" Aya asked laying his head on the table.

Ken looked over at the pendant. "Maybe he thinks the colour suits you." He said.

"Thin ice, Siberian." Aya growled. "Pink suits the florist fan girls, not the most cold blooded assassin in the Kritiker stables."

"You haven't seen tomorrow's kimono then." Ken said rinsing the dishes in the sink before he put them into the washing bowl. "It's not so much pink as coral." Aya graced him with a "full factor five shi-ne glare".

"And Manx was at the party." Aya moaned picking up the dregs of his tea and draining the cup in dismay, "and she didn't recognise me, but I thought she was checking up on me so I got her into the bathroom and she was about to attack me and now it will be all over Kritiker that I was in drag." He raised his head with a look of total dismay, "and she would have seen me with Crawford." His hand went to his face. "Oh, god, she'll tell Yohji."

"You haven't told Yohji?" Omi asked, wide eyed and terrified.

"Oh dear god, he's going to blow up." Ken said turning.

"He's always considered you his, and a customer's one thing," Omi added, "but Crawford's like us."

"And gorgeous." Ken added. Everyone turned to look at him. "Hey, I can't be the only one that noticed that. His butt's nearly as good as Aya's,"

"I thought you were straight." Omi said looking at Ken in a new light.

"And I am," Ken said raising his head, "but I'm confident enough in my own sexuality to find another man sexy."

"Bi." Omi corrected.

"Denial." Aya offered.

"And I was going to make you tea." Ken said in a dark tone.

"Well, win-win then." Omi said with a giant grin.

"Thanks for the offer, but no." Aya said standing up. "I'm going to bed, are you coming, Omi?"

Omi grinned at Aya with his hands clasped at his shoulders, "why, Ayan, I didn't know you felt that way." He gushed, standing up.

"Omi, my sweet." Aya said with heavy eyes and a faint smile, "I have always felt that way about you, but tonight, I just need help getting out of all this lingerie."

At the sink Ken turned bright red. "I so didn't need to hear that."

* * *

Crawford looked at Nagi and drummed his fingertips on the table. The boy was slightly green from over indulging on mushroom vol-au-vents at the party. He was also up well past his bedtime so he was tired, cranky, and stuffed with hors d'oeuvres and not in the mood for this. He was also in a pair of flannel pyjamas with small skeletons on them and a stuffed donkey under his arm. "I warned you." Crawford said. "That you weren't to eat too much because you'd be sick."

Nagi just frowned and if anything looked a little more grey. "Take some alka-seltzer, Schuldig will have some, and try to remember the next time I try to warn you off shell-fish that I can see the future."

"Yes, Oracle." Nagi said, shuffling his clown face slippers back and forth on the hotel carpet. He looked genuinely sorry as well as ill.

"Now do you think you've stopped being sick?" Nagi nodded slowly. "Do you want me to watch over you tonight?" Nagi shook his head. "Now give me a hug and run along to bed. I think your poorly tummy is punishment enough for your disobedience." Nagi got up and crossed the room, giving Crawford a hug like he always did, sniffling a little and then went to bed. "Oh, and Nagi," Crawford called from behind him. "You might want to bring a bucket with you."

As Nagi left Schuldig popped his head around the door. "Is it all clear?" He asked.

"I will kill you." Crawford said leaning back on his chair and crossing his legs. The light sheeted across his glasses and if he had have had a white cat he would have been stroking it. "You have no idea how skittish she is."

"No," Schuldig said, "her shields are like yours, and when her shields were down all she was thinking was "Ohmigod he's going to kiss me."

"Was she repulsed at all?" Crawford asked, leaning forward.

"Not as far as I could see, more apprehensive. Like she's not used to being kissed." He screwed up his face and thought about it, "so how's the munchkin?"

"As sick as a dog." Crawford answered. "Also, did you send doctored muffins to the Ichirogo Okiya?"

Schuldig chortled to himself, "yeah." He said. "They were my special ipecac muffins with ex-lax chocolate chips. It's an ancient German recipe first thought of in the hills of Weimar."

"And you sent them to the geisha Murasakiiro." Crawford pressed leaning back again.

"Yeah, why?" Schuldig asked.

"You complete and utter idiot, you tried to poison my date." He pulled his magnum from his jacket pocket and pointed it at the German.

Schuldig shrugged it off. "Well I wasn't to know. This girl I was seeing said it would be funny. Apparently she's like the most popular girl in the city and that it would be comeuppance." He stopped himself, "but it was Farfarello's idea really."

"You actually poisoned her Maiko." Crawford answered. "And they call you mastermind."

"I poisoned a chibi-geisha?" He thought about it. "Hey that's more fun than getting a full sized one. I'll send some flowers to apologise. What's the kid's name?"

"Aoi."

Schuldig thought about it, "why are you only threatening me with the magnum and not shooting holes in the plaster? I know you didn't get some because I interrupted." He looked at Crawford with narrowed eyes. "There's something going on here that I'm not getting."

"You made her Maiko sick." Crawford answered, "which means no chaperone. However, try anything like that again and I will have your hide, Schuldig."

"Certainly, oh wise and venerable elder." He went to leave.

"And Schuldig, interrupt me again and I will bake you in a pie, laced in ipecac and studded with ex-lax chocolate chips." He stood up.

"You've got it bad for this girl, aint ya?" Schuldig said, about to get ready to go clubbing. Crawford just laughed.

* * *

Yohji Kudoh was in a foul temper. He sat at the bar and ground out his cigarette far past the point where it was actually out. "anyone sitting here?" A particularly nasal voice asked him. He turned his head to be greeted by a pair of narrow jade eyes and bright ginger hair.

"Knock yourself out." He said.

"Hey, barkeep, two jacks for me and my friend." Schuldig called out. "Now why is such a pretty kitty sitting in a place like this looking so sad?"

"He hates me." Yohji almost bawled out. Any sense of decorum having left him three whiskeys and two vodkas ago. "I love him and he abandons me because I can't afford time with him."

"That's some boy." Schuldig mused, knocking back his shot with only a slight judder.

"We're only in this damn city to find child smugglers and no one has time for reconnaissance because Aya's sooooo busy, they had to pencil me in for dinner and then he was too drunk." Yohji had drunk far too much for him to be telling Schuldig this.

"I can't imagine Abyssinian drunk." Schuldig said patiently. He didn't even have to give mental hints to Yohji to make him talk, alcohol and bad temper were doing it for him.

"Well he was, so drunk he had to go to bed before he went out again." Yohji sniffed. "And then I had to drive him tonight and he wouldn't speak to me, just kept saying Shi-ne, and I love him." He laid his head down on the bar. The barman moved to hint that Schuldig should take him home but Schuldig just waved him away. "I've always loved him and now some man is taking him out and buying him expensive gifts, and the only way I can get time with him is if Ken pencils me in."

"Come on, Yohji, lets get you home before you pass out." Schuldig said.

"I'm not going to sleep with you." Yohji pointed out succinctly.

"Well gosh darn it, I'll just have to cry myself to sleep tonight." It was nicely sarcastic. "God, you're worse than Oracle when you drink, do you know that and he was threatening to bake me in a pie."

"Why?" Yohji asked, he was leaning on Schuldig as he led him out of the bar and into the cool night air of Kyoto.

"Teasing him, saying that he looked like Tom Cruise mostly." Schuldig flagged down a passing taxi and hefted Yohji into it. "And that he'd look lovely in a dress, and then interrupting his wooing because Takatori wanted him."

"Aya was there tonight." Yohji said, laying his head on Schuldig's shoulder. "You smell good."

"Abyssinian was at that party?" Schuldig asked, suddenly interested in the drunken babbling. "I was there, I didn't see him."

"Was in blue." Yohji slurred, he was fast falling asleep. "Looked a million dollars." Schuldig thought hard about it but he couldn't remember seeing Abyssinian at all. "Was with his best customer." Schuldig wracked his brains trying to remember if he had even seen a gay couple there tonight, because if he was understanding Yohji correctly it seemed that Abyssinian was undercover as a male host.

"And...?" Schuldig pressed, but Yohji was already asleep.

* * *

Crawford opened the door to Nagi's bedroom carefully so as not to wake him. Exactly as he had predicted, Nagi had fallen asleep with his head over the bucket. He laughed to himself a little before arranging the teen back on his pillow, and wiping his mouth down with a wet wipe.

"Crawford?" Nagi asked opening one eye.

"Yes," Crawford asked, laying his palm on Nagi's forehead to make sure he wasn't feverish before tucking the blanket in tight about him. "Go back to sleep."

"Night." The boy murmured, closing his eyes.

Crawford settled down on the chair by the bed despite that Nagi hadn't wanted him to look over him whilst he slept Crawford felt at peace there. He was the closest thing the boy had ever had to a parent and although he had started out intending to be like a big brother he had ended up as a father, a rather affectionate one at that. He looked at the piece of paper that Murasakiiro, no he caught himself, Aya, had put in his pocket at some point without noticing. It was a triolet of verses, one written painstakingly in English with a precise and rather meticulous script the other was a pair of genuine haiku.

"I find myself at odds with the emotion in your bright golden eyes." and "love is not love where love's questioned, love is not love where love's not wanted."

He read it over and over knowing that she had written it for him, the paper even smelt of her perfume. She had sat down somewhere and with a distinct and careful hand had written out the haiku in lavender coloured ink.

_A flower was offered to me:_

_Such a flower as May never bore._

_But I said "I've a Pretty Rose-tree",_

_And I passed the sweet flower o'er._

_Then I went to my Pretty Rose-tree:_

_To tend her by day and by night._

_But my Rose turn'd away with jealousy:_

_And her thorns were my only delight.__1_

Crawford smiled to himself, looking at how peaceful Nagi looked and drinking in the scent of the paper. It seemed that in the game for Murasakiiro's affections, he was winning.

* * *

1 The Pretty Rose-Tree by William Blake 


	10. Noh means Noh

Part 10

The days flew by in a flurry of activity for Aya, he spent the best part of one day at the beauty salon, and between that and the two dates he spent with Akimoto-san, he had refused to see Crawford at all after the gift of the cameo, although he knew that he would have to attend the Noh theatre with him. He found that he missed the honest conversation that they would share over books and films, and the hesitant but welcome touches that Crawford gave him as opposed to Akimoto's determined pawing.

He wouldn't even answer the cell phone Crawford had given him.

"You know the real reason," Omi said quietly, he was wearing a pair of flannel pyjamas and had planned an early night in with his laptop, Ken was sat beside him. Because Aya was going to the Noh and the other geisha had already left for the evening the two were sitting alone in the kitchen preparing for an early night. "It's not that he's scared Crawford will kiss him again," Omi's tone was low and conspiratorial, but it was obvious that he wanted to be overheard. "He's scared that he'll let him."

"Hell, I'm taking notes, Crawford woos like a man in a bad paperback novel, I never thought for a moment that it would work." Ken said, he had a box of pocky open in front of him and the two of them were snacking as they talked. Aya was making sure that he was perfect in the mirror. "Do you think he's the dashing pirate captain or the equally interesting but in a different way naval captain?"

"Shi-ne, Hidaka." He stopped and thought about it, "hey, that doesn't roll off the tongue in the same way Kudoh does, does it?" He adjusted the folds of his kimono one last time, and made sure that his hair extensions were hanging in perfect bangs along his face, it had taken him hours with the straighteners to get his hair to sit just right without gunking it up with gel and he was quite proud of the effect. Between them Aya and Kaasan had managed to give him the look of a much more traditional geisha and he had the impression that a blood spatter from murdering ken would ruin the clean white lines they had worked so hard to achieve. Aya was in sparkling white and his red hair stood out like a blood stain, he was, he was willing to admit, quite lovely tonight.

"Yes, yes," Omi said looking up, "very pretty, in fact you look like her out of that movie."

"Really," Aya said, preening just a little. "Which one?"

"Sadako from Ringu?"

"Tsukiyono Shi-ne." Aya growled. "That one doesn't work either."

* * *

The Takagi Noh was one of the most famous Noh theatres in Japan and tickets for their performances sold for hundreds of thousands of yen often with at least a six month waiting list. Crawford held his arm out for Murasakiiro to glide alongside him. She was beautiful tonight in shimmering white cotton with her long red hair slick straight on her shoulders and down her back. "You look beautiful tonight." He said, "like a star, or a princess of the moon." Murasakiiro thought about it and decided that she liked the compliment.

"They're performing Momiji tonight." A silver haired man in a white suit said from behind them, "I was wondering if you wouldn't take my tickets, Crawford, and now I see you on the arm of the loveliest woman in all Kyoto."

"Muraki," Crawford said with a smile. The man made Murasakiiro's skin crawl, he was silvery and his white hair hung over one eye. He was also wearing white but the man behind him was scowling. "You know I never miss the opportunity to see old friends, Kazutaka Muraki, this is Murasakiiro of the Ichirogo Okiya, aren't you going to introduce your guest."

"Oh yes," the man said, the light glinted menacingly off his glasses. "This is Asato Tsuzuki." He grabbed the man in black who was lurking behind him. "He's my date for the evening."

"Hostage." Tsuzuki corrected.

They ignored him. "You have beautiful eyes," Muraki said looking at Murasakiiro who did her best to hide under her hair, revealing a single eye, making her look more like that girl from Ringu. "They have such a beautiful eye colour, _That_ is a colour that is definitely not a human eye colour." Tsuzuki grabbed his arm and went to pull him away. "Your eyes are the same colour as Tsuzuki's. I wonder is that a coincidence."

Crawford took Murasakiiro's hand within his own, hers was hot and sweaty where the doctor obviously disturbed her. "Mine." He said, "you've got your own date there."

Muraki laughed, it was a genuine evil laugh. "I know." He grabbed Tsuzuki by the arm and went to take his seat, to Murasakiiro's obvious delight on the other side of the aisle.

"He's creepy." Murasakiiro whispered.

"Yes," Crawford admitted, "but he's a great doctor, he built his own mechanical eye you know."

"No I didn't know, and I don't think I wanted to either." Murasakiiro whined pulling a face.

"Ah, Saki-chan," Crawford said with a laugh, "He won't hurt you, it's professional courtesy." He squeezed Murasakiiro's hand, "and besides, I wouldn't let him."

"Shouldn't we rescue his date, I mean hostage?" Murasakiiro looked at where the dark haired man was obviously in distress. Muraki had more hands than an octopus and was using them to his best advantage. The purple eyed man didn't even seem to notice, he was pointed in the direction of the stage but the end of the world could have happened and he wouldn't have noticed.

"If we do Muraki will be honour bound to rescue you, Saki-chan." Crawford answered with a light laugh.

"But I'm not a hostage." She protested, her face a look of complete innocence. "I even got here under my own steam."

"Even though I'm very jealous at the moment." Crawford said, the tip of his finger was tracing abstract designs on her palm and Murasakiiro was discovering that open air Noh theatres in autumn can be very warm. "You've spent all your time with Akimoto-san, and I haven't seen you since the police commissioner's ball." Murasakiiro realised something as he said that but kept it to herself.

"Akimoto-san pays well for my company." She answered briefly.

"The man is an ass." Crawford said, "he thinks in the European dark ages and thinks women should be locked away in little rooms and not educated."

"Nevertheless he requested me." She answered. "Although I do my best to listen when he talks and not imagine that I am spending my time with you." It shocked her that she had said that, a geisha never spoke ill of a patron and it was alarmingly close to the truth for Murasakiiro to be entirely comfortable. "Mostly we talk of Shakespeare, he is fascinated with the concept that we are pictures out of doors, Belles in our parlours, wild-cats in our kitchens, Saints in our injuries, devils being offended, Players in our housewifery, and housewives' in our beds, as Iago so eloquently put it." Crawford looked at her before he burst out laughing. She actually looked offended for a moment, but as she looked at him she smiled. Her smile was so genuine that he just had to kiss it.

* * *

Aya sat at his dressing table brushing out his long blood red hair extensions singing I feel pretty under his breath. "Someone feels pretty." Ken said from the doorway, he jumped out of the way to avoid a lethally thrown hairbrush, which ricocheted off the door frame and caught him on the rebound.

"I think Crawford makes him feel pretty." Omi said, quite sure that now he had thrown his hairbrush that there was nothing projectile left on the dresser.

"A pity that Crawford doesn't know he's a man." Ken added.

"and his worst enemy to boot." Omi added.

"I'm using Crawford to get to Takatori." Aya answered loosely as he bound his now long hair up in a plait for the night. The two of them burst out laughing. "but I am." Aya protested.

"And Kudoh's just made a vow of celibacy." Ken said.

"And Ken will never watch soccer again." Omi said.

"I will get Crawford to participate in this mission," Aya growled and sat down on his futon which chose precisely that moment to make a ny-o sound. "What by all the seven hells?" He asked pulling back the blanket to reveal a small grey and rather sleepy kitten. It obviously wasn't very old as it's eyes were very large. He picked it up by the scruff of it's neck. It nyoed again.

"A kitten." Omi said diving across the room. "Someone got you a kitten. Can we keep it, can we, please, Aya, can we?"

"Remember the last kitten." Aya said checking the animal for anything that could identify where such a gift could come from, and why it was in his bed. They took a moment to remember the last kitten.

"I know you can't do that now." Omi said, "and it was an accident."

Around the kitten's neck was a velvet collar and tucked into it was a square of silk, he opened it up carefully. "Aagh, its from him." He dropped the kitten as if it was poisonous for Omi to pick it up with a murmur of "I'll hug him and love him and call him George" as he rubbed it against his face.

"You're not calling him George." Aya snarled, "and it's a she, and where's my cell?" This rage was only one step away from the takatori ice rage so Ken handed him the cell. "Crawford-san." He said, "that freaky doctor's gotten me a kitten." There was a brief pause. "I know." There was another pause. "Aoi appears to have adopted it." Another silence. "I don't think it's a demon." Omi held it out at arms length. "Professional courtesy." Aya said after a couple of moments. "In my futon." He held the cell away from his ear at the answer to that. "I know." There was another brief pause. "Fine, I'll leave it in your hands." He hung up.

"So Crawford didn't get you the kitten?" Omi asked.

"No, Doctor Muraki got me the kitten." He shuddered. "Omi, can I sleep in your room tonight?"


	11. Kitties, koi and whipped cream

Part Eleven

Ken opened the door to a tall albino Irish man dressed in white with scars covering the best part of his body. He closed the door again and did his best to catch his breath. Farfarello knocked again. Ken opened the door and hoped and prayed that he didn't request time with Aya, that would be something to explain. "I'm here for the kitty." He said.

Ken shook his head, "there's no kitties here, I don't know what you've heard, but I think you're mistaken, maybe you've got the wrong address." He had his bugnuks but they weren't on him, they were upstairs in a locked case in case the geisha got to them. The geisha were into everything that they found vaguely intriguing, or denied to them, in fact Ichimomo had said that the bugnuks were shiny and pretty.

A small grey furred bundle with huge blue eyes rubbed at his legs and looked up at the one eyed Irish man and nyao-ed. "No kitties?" Farfarello asked, he picked up the cat and took a long deep sniff along it's fur.

"You can't eat the cat, you'll make Aoi cry." Ken said snatching the cat back and holding it away from the insane Irish man.

"It's just a cat." Farfarello said, "cats are devil's familiar so hurting kitties helps god. Crawford said to check. Also to give geisha woman this." He handed Ken a box. Then wandered off chanting "this old man he played one," under his breath.

Ken shuddered and picked up the kitten, and put it in the pocket of his apron. "You are a very lucky kitty. That's a very bad man, he probably eats little kitties like you." He put the box in the other pocket sure that none of Crawford's other gifts had been dangerous and it was for Aya, he could open the box.

"Who are you talking to?" Aya asked from the stairs. "You're not talking to that cat are you? Because we're not keeping it."

"Farfarello just dropped by to sniff it, apparently it's just a kitten, whatever he means by that." Aya sighed in relief, "and Crawford sent this." He handed Aya the box, it was six inches long and at least four inches wide and covered in Chinese silk. Aya opened it warily, then smiled and clutched it to his chest with a distant look in his lavender coloured eyes and what on anyone else would have passed for a smile. "And it is?" Ken pressed.

"A calligraphy set." Aya answered, "what better for a geisha that practises poetry than a calligraphy set."

* * *

Aya sat at the table looking at the pale grey cat as it lapped up it's milk quite contentedly as if waiting for the animal to explode or attack him. The other geisha had decided that they loved the little creature and she had spent most of the day in the pocket of Ken's apron. It turned and looked at him. "Nyo."

"I don't know why you're looking at me." Aya answered, he gathered his kimono sleeve in one arm as he reached across the table for the teapot.

The kitten took a swipe at the gathered fabric. "Nyao." Aya snatched the expensive silk out of the way of tiny claws that could snag it. The sudden movement meant the kitten overbalanced and fell on her tail, "Nyo." It complained.

"You talk almost as much as Yohji," he said patting her on the head. The kitten began to purr. "Well I suppose you're sweet in your way." The kitten butted his hand as it purred. "We'll call you Taiki, after all you are the colour of a cloudy day."

"Who are you talking to?" Ken asked walking into the room with a bucket in his arms.

"No one." Aya said, lifting the kitten before Ken got a chance to notice it. He held it carefully in his cupped hands.

"Kaasan said not to go near the kitten in kimono in case she snags one." He said eyeing the way Aya had clasped his hands. "Are you meeting Crawford tonight?" Aya nodded, wary of the sudden change of topic. "Omi says to say thank you for the flowers he got this morning because he was sick."

"He still not up to accompanying me?" Aya asked, praying that the kitten wouldn't give him away.

Ken shook his head, "between you and me I think he's playing on it so he can spend time with the kitten."

"Taiki." Aya corrected, "we can call her Taiki."

"You're letting him keep her. I thought she was from some maniacal evil genius with a mechanical eye that gave you the creeps." Ken asked, then he thought about it. "Well, we'll put him on the Kritiker wish list and keep the cat. Speaking of which, where is she?"

"Don't know." Aya answered brusquely, "haven't seen her all day."

* * *

Yohji looked at the small grey cat perched on the table and then frowned. One of Aya's more persistent customers had bought him a cat, the cutest darn cat in Kyoto by the look of it, with huge blue eyes and a rather consternated expression. It also hated him and hissed whenever he got near it. "Kawaii." Omi exclaimed every time she did it. "Taiki really likes you."

"Yeah, chibi, she really likes me." So far she had hissed at him, clawed him, bit him and peed on him, so he got the impression that she really liked him. The cat was damn near road kill. What possessed Aya's mystery customer to buy him a kitten? Omi was feeding it flakes of tuna from his fingers and was laughing happily as the kitten purred at him. "So where's our fearless leader tonight?" He asked, blowing out smoke in rings as he leant back in the wooden chair.

"He's going to the pictures and then he has some parties. If his first customer is willing though he might skip the parties." Omi answered, scratching Taiki on the stomach where she had rolled over. "He does that a lot for him."

Yohji seethed, he would discover the identity of this mysterious gaijin customer. "Who got him the kitten?"

"Aya said it was Doctor Muraki." Omi giggled a little as the kitten wriggled, it seemed the chibi was in love at first sight, "apparently he's staying at the KoKakuRou restaurant."

Yohji made his mind up there and then, this Doctor Muraki would pay for taking away his Aya. He would pay.

* * *

Aya sat in the dark movie theatre with Crawford trying his best not to stare at the man instead of watching the movie. Crawford was actually quite attractive in his way, his features a little harsh and gaijin for Aya's taste normally, but there was an intelligence and cunning in his eyes which was quite intriguing. He looked at Aya as if working out how to consume him whole. Despite that he was supposed to be working later that night he had dressed rather casually, in a scandalously short wool cardigan that ended just under his fake bosoms and a pair of low slung jeans in a matching colour. His midriff was completely bare. He wore a pair of simple boating shoes. Kaasan had said to dress down for the cinema and to come back to dress up for the parties, but judging by the way Crawford was holding his hand Aya knew he wouldn't make it to his appointments tonight. He was half prepared to tell Kaasan to just accept Crawford as his patron so he wouldn't have to entertain any more.

On the screen an American woman was complaining about some American man in what was pretending to be a romantic comedy set in what appeared to be New York. He was beginning to think that they might have been better off seeing the domestic zombie movie showing in the other theatre.

"You seem bored, Saki-chan." Crawford whispered, his breath hot in her ear.

"The film is a little trite, Crawford-san." She whispered back, he tightened his grip on her hand a little.

"I wouldn't mind if you just called me Crawford, you know."

"I'd like that." She answered with a faint and rather genuine smile.

* * *

Meanwhile at the KoKakuRou restaurant Yohji was staking his prey. The gaijin doctor was white haired and only wore white which made the job of tracking him much easier. At the moment he was stood outside the restaurant in the formal gardens with a tall man with long black hair and a dark purple kimono. With their proximity Yohji grew even more enraged, not only was this doctor stealing Aya away but he wasn't even faithful.

* * *

Crawford laughed as Murasakiiro crossed her eyes trying to see the blob of whipped cream on the end of her nose. The ice cream parlour had filled as the film emptied and now they were sat in a private booth, he was drinking coffee but had insisted that he buy her at least something from the menu. She had ordered the simplest sundae, but had managed while laughing to get the cream on the end of her nose.

She wiped it off with a napkin. "you look like a different man when you laugh like that." She said with a smile.

He leaned across the table and kissed her, his breath was spicy with cinnamon and coffee and she leaned into it, all conscious thought vanished from her brain except ohmigod he's kissing me.

* * *

Schuldig joined Yohji in the tree overlooking the restaurant. "I wouldn't if I were you." He said looking at the tall pale doctor where he and the man in purple were talking. A card exchanged hands.

"He's stealing my Aya away." Yohji answered.

"Muraki?" He asked. "I don't think so, the man's completely barmy, even by Farfarello's standards, do you know he carries his brother's head around in a jar and keeps kidnapping a Shinigami so another one will go out with him?"

Yohji looked at Schuldig like he was speaking in tongues.

"It's true, it came out last year at the Christmas party. He's a complete loon, nuttier than a fruit cake, kinda sexy in that whole Bwa ha ha kinda way, but barking." Schuldig looked at Yohji, "Aya can do better." He said.

"But he's a doctor." Yohji protested.

"Of what no one's figured out." Schuldig smiled at him. "Come on, let's blow this popsicle stand and get wasted. Crawfish is out on a date, by the sound of it's so's Abyssinian, no one's going to complain, hey we can even invite Muraki if you want." He thought about what he said. "Hey how funny would it be if Abyssinian and Crawford were on a date with each other?"

Yohji said nothing.

* * *

Crawford and Murasakiiro were walking through the grounds of the Heian-jingu temple when she suddenly sneezed. The grounds were lush and obviously well tended and the colours in autumn were amazing to behold. "Are you cold?" He asked.

"Just a little," she said, "I think someone's talking about me." she laughed a little looking out at the moon's reflection across the small koi pond.

He shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders, then wrapped his arms around her as he looked out across the water and into the trees. Murasakiiro didn't know whether she snuggled deeper into the warmth of the jacket or the arms holding her. She just knew that it was something she never wanted to end.

"Crawford," she said finally, looking down at her feet. "There's something I need to tell you."

* * *

Next time on An Assassin And White Geisha: Yohji gets drunk and Murasakiiro reveals a terrible secret

* * *

Authors note:

The whole set up with the Noh, I'm so cheap to even include it, I just had this image of an evil mastermind society, spawned in part by Silrayn Silverwolf's Ayankitsune and the Assassin's Convention and Neil Gaiman's "The Dolls House" which had a serial killer's convention- cereal lovers welcome. I just liked the idea of them all knowing each other and sharing "professional courtesy". I'm so glad you liked it, for those of you that didn't get it, Muraki and Tsuzuki are characters in Yami no Matsuei (or Descendants of Darkness) and you can find anything you ever needed to know about it on although it's just been released by viz. In fact I lifted Muraki's speech directly from (side note the voice for Tsuzuki was provided by Miki Shinichirou who WK fans should recognise as the voice of Yohji.)

I got the idea for this fic from the Ja Weiss! Doujinshi which shows Aya dressed as a geisha, Yohji as a hostess and Omi as a school girl, but also what happens when Ken actually finds a kitty. Taiki by the way means sky among other things. I'll email the pic for anyone who wants a look.


	12. Country the music of pain

Authors note

Yet more rubbish anime refs I hope I don't have to explain but mostly seiyuu jokes.

* * *

Part 12

"Nittle Grasper are better than Route L." Yohji said looking at the German sat across the table from him, "I mean, Shining Collection rocks way more than Eternal Snow."

Schuldig gave him a look that suggested that he was humouring his companion on this point. "But Route L had the dancing prince on keyboards, not the idiot in a hat and feather boa."

Yohji made a visible display of counting to ten, "Seguchi Tohma is not an idiot in a hat, he's a business genius." He looked at the empty bottle on the table. "I think we need another one, and we're going to have to agree to disagree. Wakaouji is gorgeous as is Ryuichi, they don't make music like that any more."

Schuldig sniffed, "I know." He said, they were both very, very drunk, "look at that new band, Bad Luck."

"I know," Yohji agreed leaning back on his chair, "I can't take them seriously, look at that lead singer, looks like Omi sounds like Ken. It's just wrong." He leant back a little further, leaning the chair on two legs. "From this angle I can see up your nose." He said.

"Really?" Schuldig asked, leaning forward and slightly shifting the table, Yohji had been leaning his legs on it to maintain balance was sent skyward and landed on his back.

"That's it," he said, "for that you have to admit that Nittle Grasper are better."

"I would do Ryuichi," Schuldig admitted, putting his head down on the table.

"I'd do Wakaouji." Yohji admitted.

"I'd do them both." Schuldig admitted. "Together."

"Hell, I'd do that boy from Bad Luck." Yohji conceded wryly.

"You said he looked like Omi." Schuldig protested. Yohji grinned. "That's just wrong."

"I'd do you." Yohji admitted, "I'm easy like that."

"You're just easy." Schuldig admitted, "and besides I thought you were in mourning for the one true love of your life?" Schuldig had discovered very early on that he held his liquor better than Yohji did.

"Aya." Yohji sighed, "beautiful, beautiful Aya, whose skin is the colour of milk and whose grunts just make me horny."

"He grunts?" Schuldig asked with a laugh.

"He doesn't speak, he just Hn's at you for the most part." Yohji rolled over and got to his feet carefully, he was incredibly wobbly. "What did you call this foreign liquor?"

"This?" Schuldig asked lifting the bottle, "Becherovka," he answered, "it's great stuff, you only get drunk when you stand up, you can only get it in Europe."

Yohji sat down again. "Wow," he said, "it is good, the room's spinning in six different directions at once."

"Why do you think I'm not standing up." Schuldig answered with a laugh.

* * *

Omi looked around the room carefully as he opened the window, with a final scan he put his hand on the frame and prepared to make good his escape. "No, you don't." Ken said opening the door behind him. "If I'm trapped here, you're trapped here too."

"But." Omi protested.

"You could have gone to the film tonight with Aya, but oh, no, you were sick." Ken said crossing his arms over his chest.

"I was sick." Omi protested, making his blue eyes very large, "and Aya wanted to be alone with Crawford."

"Omi Tsukiyono, step away from that window, or I'll be forced to go and get Kaasan." Ken said, doing his best impression on Aya, it wasn't very good though.

"But," Omi protested again, pouting even more, "I have to go out. I have a date and I can't miss it, they'll think I have stood them up."

"They?" Ken asked, "or he?"

"He," Omi answered.

"As Aoi or Omi?" Ken pressed.

"Omi."

Ken looked him over. "You've got two hours, make it count, any more than that and you're on your own." He really had no defence against the puppy eyes. "and leave the cat." He added.

"Thank you, KenKen." Omi grinned and jumped out of the window, a feat that might have been more impressive had it not been a ground floor window.

* * *

Aya burst into the Okiya and slammed directly into Ken, sending the two of them flying. Ken blinked for a moment, "I'm sorry, Aya, I should watch." Then he stopped. "Hey, you knocked me down."

Aya stuttered out what might have been an apology and then fled up the stairs like the horsemen of the apocalypse were on his tail. Ken took one look at the kitten he was carrying in the pocket of his apron. "I don't like the look of that, do you, Taiki-neko?" The kitten just looked at him like he was mad.

The delicate strains of an acoustic guitar filtered down the stairs like fog as EmmyLou Harris began to sing. Ken swore as Kaasan looked at him meaningfully from the kitchen doorway. "country," he said patiently, gathering the accoutrements of Yohji's brooding, a fresh pot of tea, a box of tissues and chocolate. "Yohji does this all the time." He said, "whenever he gets dumped. I'll bring this stuff upstairs and leave him alone, it will have blown over by morning."

Kaasan shook her head as she took the tray. "Men." She said under her breath.

* * *

Aya actually growled when Kaasan opened the door, he was sitting with his back to the door, and had got changed, he was wearing a pair of loose grey marl sweats and an oversized T-shirt. "It's me." She said quietly, "I brought tea."

"Leave me." He said, "but leave the tea." He had huddled himself with his knees pressed to his chest.

"Aya," Kaasan never used his name, she shuffled over to him and sat beside him on the futon. "It's all right, we've all been there."

"What?" Aya asked, taking the huge mug of tea that she had prepared for him, it was thick with honey, he sniffed back a sob, "you've had umpteen dates with your worst enemy and you're actually kind of falling for him."

"No, sweetheart," she said, carefully laying his head on her shoulder, at first Aya rejected the intimacy. "We've all had our hearts broken."

He turned his head to look at her, his large eyes almost silver in the light, and his lip wobbled. "Oh, Kaasan." He wailed and started sobbing.

* * *

Crawford exploded into the hotel room and picked up the chair, shattering it on the floor. A tea service collided with the wall. Farfarello popped his head out of the door. "Now is not a good time to ask, Nagi." He said to the boy, then ushered him another way, "let's use the fire escape."

There was a terrible crash from the next room.

"What's wrong with Crawford?" Nagi asked.

"I really don't think we should ask." The Irish lunatic said, "we better leave before he throws us." He pushed Nagi to the window.

"But." Nagi protested.

There was a roaring noise followed by a clatter clack crash.

"All right." He conceded moving to the window.

* * *

Omi met Nagi at a small park. Farfarello lurked behind, they both knew he was there in the bushes, and did their best to ignore that the only way that Schwarz would let Nagi do anything like this was with a bodyguard.

"Did you have any trouble getting away?" Nagi asked, warily taking his hand.

"No, not at all, Ken just wanted to know where I was going." Omi answered, squeezing Nagi's hand tightly.

"Crawford was acting really weird, he came back early and trashed the hotel room." Nagi answered, "I almost didn't meet you because I was worried, and then Far convinced me I would do better to be worried about myself with him in that temper. So we came down the fire escape."

"I really wish they'd let you meet me without a bodyguard." Omi said looking at where Farfarello was chasing a squirrel.

"Far's better than Schuldig," Nagi conceded. They were quiet for a moment remembering the one date that Schuldig had accompanied them on. He had heckled them and even took photos. Then run off laughing as both of them started throwing things at him. Omi was surprised that Nagi's shot was almost as good as his.

"I got you something." Omi said, blushing in the faint light, "hold out your hand." Nagi did and Omi depositied a small white lump in it. Nagi smiled as he turned it around and around, "it's a little donkey like the one you won for me at the fair." He reached over and kissed Omi on the cheek. "I love it, thank you."

Omi blushed a little brighter at the kiss. "It's a netsuke," he said, "I thought you could put it on your phone with this cord here." He pulled the piece of string coming from it. Nagi silenced him with a kiss.

Far looked on from the bushes, the squirrel had escaped him. "Ah, young love, unmarried and yaoi, hurts, doesn't it, god?


	13. Arcane designs and pistachio ice cream

Part 13

"So," Ken said, crossing his arms and looking at the mountain of dishes in front of him in the sink, instead of where Kaasan sat at the table with a cup of hot green tea. "Did he say what it was?"

"He's sleeping." Kaasan answered patiently, nicely, in her opinion, avoiding the topic.

"If it was Yohji I say that he was dumped." Ken surmised tackling the mountain of washing that the geisha had left him. They couldn't make a cup of tea without dirtying at least four cups and bowl, he swore.

"And where is our little Aoi?" Kaasan said, changing the subject.

"He went to the pictures," Ken answered, "look it's not like Aya to get dumped, so are you going to tell me or am I going upstairs to wake him?" He paused for a moment, thinking about it, it was safe to wake Yohji but Aya... He remembered the last time he had woken Aya. "Well, ask him in the morning."

Kaasan laughed a little. "He's fine." She said, "he just needed to cry it out, I put the kitten in with him, he'll sleep the worst of it off, in the morning he'll be well though it will take him a long time to heal."

"So he did get dumped?" Ken pressed.

"It's not my place to tell." Kaasan answered. "Did Aoi take her cell with her?" Ken nodded. "I'll tell her to bring back some ice cream for him."

* * *

Omi closed his cell with a look of wonder. "Someone dumped Aya." He said in shock, "He's in mourning."

Nagi looked at him open mouthed with wide blue eyes that never thought to hear those words. "Are we going to hear about it on the news? Man killed in samurai style execution."

Omi looked at Nagi and then smiled. He reached across the small diner's table to kiss those pale lips that were almost smiling. He never got more than an almost smile from Nagi, but those almost smiles were cherished and worshipped with real love.

Farfarello was sat in another booth making satanic designs in his raspberry sauce with a plastic knife that he had specially sharpened. Omi hated that Nagi always had a baby sitter when he went out with him, but preferred that it was Farfarello because he made sure the two of them were uninterrupted and never interrupted them himself. One day, Omi thought, it will be Crawford asking me about my intentions and planning a wedding.

He stopped for a moment, and then stole another kiss from the almost smiling boy facing him, would Crawford approve of him with Nagi? It suddenly meant a lot to him that they were hiding this relationship from Crawford, Aya knew. Aya always knew, he was one of those people that even though he never mentioned it, he knew. You could really sneak nothing past him.

Omi didn't like the idea that Aya was upset, normally it was Yohji that went into mourning when he'd been dumped, it meant lots of chocolate and country music played loudly for about three days and then the so-called love of his life was forgotten, he pined over Aya for a day or two and then went back to the clubs to fall in love again. Aya wasn't like that.

"Crawford was in a terrible mood when we left." Nagi admitted, taking a sip of his brand name soft drink. "He was actually breaking things, and normally he's very neat." He wiped his mouth with a pale thin hand as Omi handed him a napkin.

"Maybe they know something we don't know." Omi said, he knew that it might make Aya a little happier that Crawford was unhappy too, but it might be something else that upset Aya, Crawford might just have been stood up. Crawford was a very organised man, it seemed to Omi, he might not like something that broke his appointments. He'd tell Aya anyway.

* * *

Yohji woke up to the electric alarm and opened an eye. The man on the radio was happily chattering away and with a horrible start Yohji realised that he couldn't understand a word he said. "Aargh!" He yelled, jumping out of bed and stumbling to land flat on his face. "It's finally happened, Aya was right," he said to himself as he found himself a nice quiet little place under the desk, "I got so drunk that I've forgotten Japanese."

"Was ist los?" The voice said from the bed. It was a male voice, that was nothing surprising in and of itself, it was a familiar voice and it was definitely speaking in a language he didn't understand. He didn't recognise the room he was in, he had slept with a strange man, he looked down, fully clothed, and he'd forgotten Japanese. It didn't get much worse than this. "Ich versuche zu schlafen." The voice said sitting up, and Yohji took it back, it had just got much worse, he was in a hotel room he didn't know, he'd forgotten Japanese and he'd slept with Schuldig. It really didn't much worse than that.

Then a single stabbing pain lanced through his right eye and his stomach lurched, his hangover had just kicked in. He really had to stop saying that.

"It's the end of the world." Yohji moaned from his little hidey hole under the desk.

Schuldig rolled his eyes and flopped back down on the bed. "können Sie ruhig sein?" He asked. Then took another look at Yohji. "No, he said, I guess you can't." He laughed.

"You're speaking Japanese." Yohji said with a great grin. "I've not forgotten it. Do you remember where we are or how we got here?"

"You're the detective, kitty." Schuldig said pulling it over his head, "you figure it out."

Yohji climbed out from under the desk and moved to the window, he paused on standing waiting for his head to catch up and his stomach not to. He opened the drapes carefully as Schuldig hissed n the bed. "Um, Toto," he said, "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."

"First of all," Schuldig growled, not recognising the movie reference at all, "we were in Kyoto, not Kansas, and second of all, I don't even look like her."

Yohji rolled his eyes in despair. "I don't think we're even in Japan anymore." He said, "it looks like a period flick out there."

"Well what's the last thing you remember?" Schuldig growled.

"We were drinking," Yohji said, "and we ran out of liquor."

"And I said we can go get some more." Schuldig suggested, sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes.

"But we were drinking that foreign stuff."

"Becherovka." Schuldig supplied, he remembered the taste of burning at the back of his throat and the swirling of his stomach that was distinctive of a becherovka hang over. He thought about it for a moment then looked at the alarm clock which was playing some upbeat number in a language that was completely indistinguishable from gibbering to him, he looked at Yohji and the vista of arched roofs and pointed spires, at the sprawl of the river he could just see. "Dear God in heaven, we're in Prague. Crawford's going to kill me."

* * *

Nagi stepped into the room warily with a shield of his power up, and Farfarello lurking behind him. If it came down to it Crawford was much more likely to strike out at the Irish man. The room was strangely quiet, almost empty quiet. He had even tidied up, there was still a coffee stain on the wall, but the porcelain had been cleared away, the broken chair was in a neat pile and if Nagi hadn't heard the crash of the television bouncing off the wall he honestly would have thought that there wasn't one in there. "Crawford." He called a little warily. "I brought ice cream."

There was still no answer. "Maybe he's not in." Farfarello suggested. They were tip toeing around the hotel room worried that Crawford was going to appear out of nowhere, and having run out of things in the room to break might break them instead.

"It's pistachio." Nagi called out. Pistachio was Crawford's favourite ice cream flavour. It was Farfarello's idea that they get him a bribe.

The found Crawford sitting on the floor of his bedroom in a pair of loose sweats and a white T-shirt that had seen better days. He had been drinking, he had his back to the wall and his knees up in front of him. Nagi decided that with Schuldig missing he'd field this one. He waved Farfarello away.

He sat down next to him and opened the carton of ice cream, offering the tub to Crawford who blinked at it for a moment. "Thank you." He said.

Nagi leant up against him, "want to tell me about it, I promise I won't say anything, I'm not Schuldig." He said.

And Crawford told him. "I was on a date with Murasakiiro-sama, and it was wonderful, we went to the cinema and shared our popcorn, she even let me kiss her a few times, she's normally really shy and I have to steal the kisses, but she even kissed me." He felt a little sheepish telling this to Nagi, but Nagi had said that he wouldn't tell anyone.

"Then we went for ice cream, and it was wonderful, she's wonderful." He stopped again, suddenly very quiet. "Then we went to the imperial gardens to just walk." He took a long deep drink of his sake and stabbed his spoon into the green ice cream just as hard as he could. It bent under the pressure.

"And?" Nagi asked, patiently.

"She said she had something to tell me." Crawford said.

"And?" Nagi pressed.

"She said it couldn't work between us, that this was too much, and that it wasn't me, it was her." Nagi flinched, "and she didn't trust that I'd just be friends, and she had admitted all along that she had a boy friend. She dumped me, Nagi, and I didn't see it coming."

* * *

Yes, dear reader, Murasakiiro dumped him.


	14. My woman, dammit

Part 14

Nagi looked at Crawford, he looked so sad that it upset him. Crawford was a rock. No matter what happened it never affected Crawford, a lot of it was because his precognition meant that nothing surprised him, he could plan for it, prepare for it. But Crawford had fallen for this geisha hard and there had been no warning that he had said, and he had not seen her parting from him. Nagi made his mind up there and then.

"Crawford," he said bluntly, "the reason you didn't see it coming is because it's not going to last." He lifted his head thinking, his mouth making a firm line, "you are going to get your Murasakiiro-sama back, by hook, crook or downright kidnapping. I know you're a perfect gentleman." Crawford was looking at him like he was speaking in tongues, "but you're also a legitimate member of Rosenkreuz and they work for evil. You have pussyfooted around this woman enough. Take charge, be a man."

Crawford blinked once, and then twice, then he gaped a little.

"Is she your woman?"

Crawford blinked again.

"I said is she your woman?" Nagi was new to motivational speaking and it showed.

"Yes." Crawford muttered.

"I can't hear you."

"Yes!" He answered loudly, "and you need your ears cleaned out. I'm sat right next to you."

"Then, come first thing in the morning we march down to her Okiya and we let her know that you are not taking no for an answer, and if she still protests then we live up to our evil reputation and kidnap her."

Crawford looked at Nagi for a moment. "You've spent too much time with Schuldig." He said.

"Crawford, don't let her go, she made you happy." Nagi said.

"I know, Nagi," Crawford said patiently, "I know." He wondered when his life had reached that low that he was forced to take relationship advice from a fifteen year old boy.

* * *

Farfarello looked at the phone handset and then laughed his head off at it. "Prague?" He asked, "what are you doing there?" Schuldig answered something but he didn't really pay that much attention. "So, let me get this straight, you went out for more liquor and woke up in the Czech republic?" Farfarello laughed even harder. "I'll tell Crawford." He laughed some more. "You've got who with you?" He was doubled over, and it was very difficult to breathe. "Priceless," he gasped. "You can't get back for three days?" He laughed some more, he was howling, and he was almost past standing, as it was he was leaning against the wall. "No," he laughed, "I'll tell him for you. Schuldig, you crack me up. And they say I'm crazy."

* * *

Ken picked up the ringing phone. "Ichirogo Okiya." He said brightly in the manner that Kaasan preferred and insisted on when she was staring at him. "No, I'm afraid she's not available at the moment, can I take a message?" He lifted a pencil from beside the notepad. "Crawford-san?" He asked, "No, I've got that, I'll tell her." He rolled his eyes for a moment, "no, I will." He pulled a face, frowning at the phone, "Murasakiiro-sama is a very important member of this Okiya, if you continue to hurt her the way that you did tonight then we will be forced to reject your appointments." He listened for a moment, "we will, of course, abide by her decision. I will pass on your message, Crawford-san, but it is Murasakiiro-sama that has the final decision." He hung up and then stuck his tongue out at the phone, and flipped it his middle digit.

The phone rang again, Ken jumped back. He couldn't have known, he thought, could he? He took a deep breath and lifted the receiver, "Ichirogo Okiya." He said brightly. "Yohji, where are you, this line's terrible?" there was a brief pause. "How in the hell?" He listened for a moment, "How drunk were you?" There was a moment before he spoke again, "I don't believe that this was a trick by Schwarz," he waited again, "even if he is there. Get back as soon as you can." He hung up again.

"That was Yohji," he told Omi who was looking at him funny, "you're not going to believe this, but he's in Prague with Schuldig," Omi gaped a little. "And it was Crawford the first time and he says that Aya dumped him, not the other way around."

Omi blinked and gaped at the same time, trying to make sense of what Ken was telling him. "Well," he said, and for one of the first times in his life he was completely and utterly speechless.

* * *

The knocking on the front door woke Ken up, he looked blearily at his alarm clock, convinced it said SOS. He squinted a bit and realised it said 5.05. Why the hell was someone at the door at five past five in the morning. He guessed that Ichimomo had locked her self out again. He stumbled down the steps in a pair of pyjama bottoms and tried to ignore the geisha, Ichigo, in the kitchen oohing over his bare chest and chiselled abs, whilst appreciating it as much as his half asleep brain could manage to process the compliment. He opened the door to three members of Schwarz, the fourth being in Eastern Europe, he took a look at them.

Prodigy was wearing a school uniform, but judging by the fact he had his tie around his head and only one arm in his jacket, and one eyes was closed and he was drooling, Ken was willing to guess that he wasn't much more awake than he currently was. He also had a cute grey stuffed donkey under one arm.

Berserker was wearing a jacket that gave him the distinct ability to hug himself and a pair of trousers with the knees tied together, his head was cast back and he was snoring.

Oracle, on the other hand, was immaculate. He was also dressed like a samurai from a period flick, his black hair was exquisitely gelled so that only a few stray locks fell across a rather smooth forehead, and he was wearing contacts. The dark brown of the kimono brought out the amber highlights of his hair, and the red pattern on his wide legged trousers looked like maple leaves in the predawn grey.

Ken gaped at them for a moment, it was clear Oracle had put some effort into this. "It's five o clock in the morning." Ken managed to whine after a few seconds, he couldn't care less if they killed him right now, he just wanted to go back to bed. "Come back later."

"No." Oracle said, "I want to speak to Murasakiiro-sama."

"She's in bed," Ken protested, "I was in bed, and by the looks of it those two still think they are."

"Ooh, pretty." Ichigo said from behind Ken where she had popped her head out of the kitchen to be nosy, her appointments had run late and she was yet to go to bed. "I like your hair," she said touching Farfarello.

"Ichigo!" Ken protested.

"It's okay, Reiichi," Kaasan said from behind them both, it was obvious the knocking on the door had woken her, she however was perfectly dressed. "I can deal with this from here. Ichigo, no one will want to spend time with you this evening if you haven't slept, go." It was a pointed dismissal and Ichigo went with a wink at Farfarello, who if anything seemed a little scared by her. "Crawford-san, I presume." She smiled when he nodded. "That child should be abed, Reiichi-kun, you can put him in with you. It is fine, Crawford-san, you can send your bodyguard away." Crawford stood his ground. "I am merely inviting you in for tea, this is not the kind of conversation that one should have in the street, am I incorrect, Crawford-san." Kaasan always got her way, Ken thought, taking Nagi by the arm, he also pulled the tie from around his head, Crawford would be best just backing down.

* * *

Aya stumbled down the Okiya steps in an oversized T-shirt that came more than halfway down his thighs and a pair of sweat pants that he had fallen asleep in, and stopped dead on the fourth step, all traces of sleep gone. Brad Crawford, Oracle of Schwarz, principal bodyguard of Reiji Takatori was sat in the kitchen. He turned tail and ran up the stairs. Tea could wait, he couldn't go down the stairs, he couldn't face him.

Omi was asleep on his futon, arms and legs akimbo and mouth open. It was not an attractive sight. Aya shook him awake. "Schwarz is in the kitchen." He hissed.

"Then tell them I want pancakes." Omi slurred and rolled over.

Aya woke him up again with a short jab in the ribs. "There will be no pancakes if they find out who we are. We're supposed to be girls, remember."

Omi snuggled further into his quilt, "They're here because of you." He murmured.

"Omi, I need your help to get dressed." Aya hissed.

"Just put the bra on, they'll never know." Aya blushed up to the roots of his hair, "Ah, I get it," Omi said sitting up, "you can't put your own bra on." He tittered to himself.

Aya rolled his eyes. "Just give me a hand will you?"

* * *

When Murasakiiro descended the steps it looked as if she had never slept, as if her beauty was kept perfect in a glass case. Her long red hair was pulled back into a pony tail and she wore a pair of rose coloured jeans and a dark magenta cashmere sweater. The colours brought out the dark red of her hair and the lavender coloured sash around her waist highlighted her unusual eyes.

Crawford's throat tightened looking at her. Then he stood up. He would not be weak.

"I'm throwing down the gauntlet. I'm not letting you go, Saki-chan. You are my woman, Damnit." Murasakiiro blinked over and over again. "I'll win you back, by hook, crook or downright kidnapping." Murasakiiro blinked again, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. "I don't care if it's you. You're my woman."

Ichimomo, the geisha, who had been sat at the table with her head in her arms looked up, "That is so kawaii." She exclaimed happily, "and so romantic."

Murasakiiro had gone from goldfish impressions to her eyes being very wide and wobbling. It looked like she might at any moment burst into tears. "I can't." She murmured, "I can't."

* * *

Meanwhile, in Czechoslovakia.

"So you phoned Crawford?" Yohji asked, leaning back in the café's chair. Since they were stuck in Prague for another couple of days the two had decided to spend it like tourists. Schuldig nodded. "I phoned Ken."

"I take it they weren't any more worried than mine were?" Schuldig sipped his ginger lemonade.

"What do you think?" Yohji asked, lighting a cigarette.

"I'm too far to tell you what Schwarz is thinking, but we do have a link, Crawford can't make his mind up whether he's in a homicidal rage or he's weeping, Farfarello thinks whatever the hell has happened is just funny, and Nagi can't make his mind up whether he's happy or worried."

"That must be handy." Yohji said, "I'd give my eye teeth to find out what's going on in Aya's head most of the time."

Schuldig shrugged. "It's a fifty-fifty thing."

"Well, I'd love to know how Aya's doing with his mysterious customer." Yohji laughed, just a little dryly.

Schuldig leaned forward, "look we're both officially out of action until we get back to Kyoto, how's about telling me about this mysterious mission, I mean after all, Weiss will have it sorted by the two of us get back."

Yohji looked around before leaning forward. "Well," he said.

* * *

Nagi woke slowly in the futon, he had been stripped at some point down to his boxers. He opened his eyes to a pair of wide blue eyes he would recognise anywhere. He threw his arms up and kissed the figure passionately.

The figure pulled away, turning her blonde head. "I'm sorry," she said, "I think you have me mistaken for someone else."

"But Omi," Nagi protested.

"My name is Aoi." She said but she wouldn't look at him as she said it.

"Don't do this, Omi, please." He grabbed her hand.

She jerked it away. "I'm sorry." she said, "you have me mistaken for someone else."

* * *

Gosh darn it, I'm evil, don't worry readers, all will be resolved, soon.

Honest.

I'm sorry, Nagi.

Author's note: Thank you all so much for the reviews, I really do appreciate it, I didn't think I updated that quickly, for the most part this has been sat in note form so it's just a matter of finding the time to type it up.

I have read Memoirs of a geisha, and the more eagle eyed among you might notice a geisha in this called Ichimomo, I didn't like Sayuri but I thought Ichimomo was fantastic.

I planned for fifteen chapters, but it might run to sixteen. I doubt we'll go as far as twenty.

a speciality of Prague and well worth trying


	15. Priceless, absolutely priceless

Part 15

"Well," Yohji said leaning forward over the small table. Schuldig's ears perked up, glad that he was going to get some information from Weiss, even if it was only from Yohji. "There's this child slavery ring operating in Gion and it seems that they have some powerful political backing. We were sent in to take it down, but although we know that they are working out of a certain tea house we had to get someone invited."

"And what's this to do with Aya being a prostitute?" Schuldig asked.

Yohji, who had just taken a mouthful of the ginger lemonade went for the distant spitting approach. "Who told you that?" he asked, wiping his mouth, his eyes wide, "Aya, a prostitute, I'm going to tell him you said that. he'll threaten you instead of me for a change."

"You said that he had clients and you couldn't afford him." Schuldig said, "I just guessed."

"Aya's deep under cover." Yohji admitted, "as the geisha Murasakiiro."

Schuldig started to giggled, "Murasakiiro, you say." He asked, "Murasakiiro." He laughed out loud. "Priceless."

"What?" Yohji asked. He had no idea where Schuldig was going with this.

"Crawford's in love with Abyssinian, oh priceless." Schuldig laughed, "I am so never letting that go. In love with the ice maiden of Weiss. That's got years worth of mileage." He wiped his eyes, he was laughing that hard. "Oh, what I wouldn't give for a photo."

"Crawford?" Yohji asked incredulous, "Aya's mystery customer is Crawford?"

* * *

Nagi ran into the street pulling the over sized sweat shirt over his head as he ran. He was sobbing. He ran and ran and ran with no care where his feet took him, all he could focus on was the sharp edges of the netsuke in his hand. The man grabbed him hard and the world went black as all he could focus on was the sweet smelling cloth over his mouth and nose and the way his eyes felt sore and swollen from crying. He didn't even notice the person who picked him and threw him over his shoulder. His hand fell open and the small white netsuke fell out, landing in the grass.

* * *

Schuldig stood up straight, as if a rod had been slid down his back. Yohji backed away from him, they were in the torture museum at the time. He had gone from being animated and saying how much Farfarello would have loved it, which Yohji didn't doubt, to going wide eyed and silent as if a switch had been thrown. His mouth made futile little gestures and he started, just a little, to drool. Then he fainted.

The manager came flying around the corner, where he nearly tripped on a screen and knocked the head crusher flying. He apologised profusely as he phoned for an ambulance, Schuldig opened his eyes and grabbed Yohji's ankle. "Something's happening," he gasped out, "something's wrong with Nagi."

* * *

Aoi was beside herself, sobbing violently into Ken's arms as if the world was ending. Her crying as impossibly loud and she had gathered Ken's sweater in her fists as he patted her on the back softly. Crawford looked discomfited. Ken rolled his eyes, the last thing that Weiss needed was the problems of Schwarz added to their own. Aoi was reaching an almost unbearable level of volume and no amount of coaxing would reveal why.

"He ran off that way." Ken said pointing, "towards town."

"I'll go with you." Aya said, slipping on a pair of pink trainers. "Two pairs of eyes can see better than one."

* * *

Nagi woke up with a head that felt that it was full of cotton wool. His tongue was swollen and his throat dry. He looked around his surroundings, it was a small underground room, the walls were painted a dull grey and there was a distinct smell to the green carpet. There was some ragged furniture and an empty water cooler sat in a dark green pool. Three other teenagers, all younger than he was, were huddled in the corner around a small heater. They were all hobbled. He sat up and swung his legs down. His head still felt stuffy and he thought he might be sick. He moved his tongue around in his mouth and felt the filling. Oh well, he thought, there's worst things to be than kidnapped.

"You're awake." One of the others said turning, the three of them were practically joined at the hip. "You were out for so long."

Nagi's smile was as vulpine as the way his head felt let it be. "I'm Nagi, and I'd say by nightfall we're going to be free."

"But," the smallest boy protested, he had a shock of blonde hair and his eyes were grey, there was a smatter of freckles over his nose. "They're never going to let us go, they said that they were going to sell us in Hong Kong." He wailed out loud. Nagi shuddered his hands flying over his ears, his head was stuffy.

"They will come and get us, by nightfall." He repeated. "My family will come and get us." His head rested between his knees as his breathing steadied, the chloroform was affecting him too much. He was beginning to wonder if he was drugged. "They'll make them suffer."

"I'm Paul." The blonde boy said quietly, "I was on holiday, they took me from the hotel."

"I'm Miko." The Japanese girl said, her hair was short, and there was a terrible scratch along her cheek. She was very pretty, "I was on my way home from school."

"I'm Shinji." The last boy said, "I was with my girlfriend, I don't know what happened to her. I've been here the longest."

"Well," Nagi said, "it wasn't entirely my intention, but I was bait."

* * *

Authors Note

Sorry about the short update but I had completely forgotten I hadn't finished this, and I was happily planning the sequel. Umm, all will be resolved, dear reader, rest assured.

Also why you shouldn't kidnap telekinetics.

And Hannah, I know I didn't send the picture but you need to give me the rest of your email.

Please review.


	16. Fun with Poltergeists

Part Sixteen

Why you shouldn't kidnap telekinetics and other fun with poltergeists

* * *

Nagi looked around the room and then flexed his telekinesis, testing things that he could lift. He could open the lock on the door, but he wasn't sure how many people were outside it or how heavily they were armed. Even he couldn't stop sixty men with Kalishnikovs, or at least not for long. He certainly couldn't protect three other people from sixty men with Kalishnikovs. He couldn't even protect Schwarz from sixty men from Kalishnikovs. He was stuck here until they came to rescue him, come what may. Although he was angry and upset that Omi had pretended that he hadn't known him at the Okiya he had to be firm, and he was Schwarz, after all, they would have him back by nightfall at the latest. He had a tracer in one of his fillings, his only advantage to cavities. Crawford would kill everyone here, even if there were sixty men with Kalishnikovs.

However as much like Crawford as he could be he could also be like Schuldig. He smiled, but it really was more of a smirk than a smile. "Everyone," he said looking at the other three, they were still huddled together like puppies. "I'm going to tell you something, and you have to trust me. I work for the government, I'm part of a group called Schwarz, I have a tracer, they'll come and get me, and they'll free us." He did his best to look sincere, he didn't mention the fact that he worked for an evil group as it wouldn't really help them. "I have a gift, things are going to move, like in that film, poltergeists. We are going to be rescued, but I'm going to make their life hell first." The smirk got broader and much more malevolent. "When I tell you, start screaming."

* * *

Crawford flicked open his mobile phone and selected option 9 on the menu, then option 1. A loose map flicked up on the coloured screen. "We're within range." He said.

Murasakiiro looked a little dazed as she stood next to him. Normally she was the one in traditional dress but now she wore jeans and he wore chihaya and hakama. She looked over his shoulder at the rudimentary map. "You have him bugged?" She asked.

"In my line of business it's best to have an idea where your team mates are at any time. He's not that far from here." Crawford titled the phone until it beeped once, "this way."

"I know this isn't really the time, Crawford." she said, walking along side him down the path as he followed the beeping of the tracer on his mobile. "But we do need to talk."

"Look," he said, scanning the street. "If this was about my declaration this morning, I'm sorry." Crawford raised the mobile to better the reception. "I was aggravated because you cast me aside, and I assumed that if I was more forceful you might pay attention to me, obviously I was wrong."

Murasakiiro grabbed him. "It's not that." She pressed him up against the wall, and kissed him hard, "It's not that I want to, it's that I can't."

"Aya," he gasped out into her hair, "I knew." He murmured, "I always knew."

Aya looked at him and then laid his head against his shoulder. "You knew?" He asked. "Everything?"

"That you're Weiss Abyssinian and you're only in Kyoto for a mission, of course I knew, I recognised you long before I had a vision." He put his arms around Aya and rested his head against his forehead. "What kind of Oracle would I be if I didn't know?"

"I'm sorry," Aya said, putting his own arms around Crawford's waist and resting her weight against him. "I didn't want to lie to you. I do really like you."

Crawford's answering smile was wickedly cruel. "I know, but Murasakiiro never lied to me, now before I murder Bombay for letting something happen to Nagi let's go rescue the boy."

"I'm not armed." Aya protested.

"In the inside of my blouse." Crawford said, "at the back, I have a spare katana."

"You knew." Aya protested with just a little mock hurt.

"I can see the future." Crawford said, "of course I knew."

"You are smug, I'll just have to break you of it."

Crawford stole a kiss. "I'll hold you to that."

* * *

Everyone in the room screamed as Nagi levitated the water cooler. He started to rip up the carpet tiles, although he had said to scream he had the impression that flying carpet tiles and the levitating water cooler would have made them scream. He rattled the door in the frame, he shattered the small window. He started whipping their clothes about them. The door opened and a man with a machine gun came in. He was short and round with a sweaty face. "Shut up." The man said waving his gun around. Nagi slammed the door shut behind him, making sure to catch the guard on the ass.

He started to swirl the glass from the broken window around Miko's head and started the wind lifting her hair. He was going to be starving later from using his gift this much. "We've got a ghost." Miko screamed, doing her best to hold perfectly still.

"This has been happening all day." Shinji said. "We can't stay here, there's no telling what will happen to us. It might be a demon, it might eat us."

Nagi snatched the gun and fired a round into the ceiling. "It's a poltergeist." He shouted. "We've got to get out of here, please." It was all he could not to burst out laughing. The man's face had gone very white and it made his sweaty skin resemble nothing more than a slug in a black T-shirt.

"Be quiet." The man squeaked. There was no power in his voice at all.

Nagi opened the door again and made sure he caught the man again. "The door keeps locking and unlocking, please, you have to move us."

There was a distinct loud bang, one he recognised perfectly. Everything dropped, including the water cooler on the man's head. He laughed. "That's Crawford." he said, with a great smile, "I'd know that magnum anywhere." He offered his hand to Miko, she was nearly a head taller than him. "Let's go home." He said.

* * *

Crawford shot the man clean through the head. Abyssinian was beside him, the katana glinting as he moved through a series of katas. His hair was long and flying behind him. It was something to behold. Crawford felt a line of saliva running down the length of his chin. He wiped it away angrily and then shot another man. Nagi waved at him with a smile from a doorway as Abyssinian killed the last of the men.

"Hi," Nagi said leading the others forward. "Thanks for rescuing me, these are the other hostages of a child smuggling and slavery ring."

Aya smirked as he realised that he had just completed his mission, "I'd also like to mention that Murasakiiro has died." He lifted his hair and cut it short around his head, "goodbye evil extensions."

"Murasakiiro." Nagi said, blinking in shock, "you're Abyssinian, why I never." It sounded suitably sarcastic. "Can we go home now?"

* * *

Nagi walked hand in hand with Crawford who hadn't done that with him since he was seven. Aya walked to the other side of him, they were suspiciously quiet. They had taken the three children to the local police station but not inside, because as groups of assassins they weren't the best witnesses, before they headed back to the Okiya.

When Aoi saw Nagi she launched herself out of Ken's arms and smothered his face in kisses. "I'm so sorry," she wailed, loudly. "I," Nagi silenced her the best way he knew how, by kissing her soundly.

"Bless," Ken said looking around for Aya and Crawford before he realised they were missing.

* * *

"This is going to be difficult to hide." Crawford said, sitting on the outside wall with Aya, they were holding hands.

"I know." Aya said.

"I really can't do this." He lowered his head and frowned, "I still am though." He turned his head and smiled. "and we are still enemies."

"Of course." Crawford answered with a smile. "Do you still sneak off to see your sister?" He asked.

Aya nodded.

"Then slip off one more time a week, come to this address." He handed him a business card. "I'd really like to continue our conversations."

Aya held the card as if it was a priceless treasure. "I'd like that."

* * *

Three weeks later Crawford received a letter in the mail, Schuldig who was still recovering from the "prague malady" as he called his hangover just handed it to him without bothering to read it. It simply read

_In the morning I am empty _

_Of everything I used to be _

_I will write away my feelings _

_So no one would ever read _

_If I had all of the answers _

_I could poor salt on my wounds _

_I could fill this room with sorrow _

_So no one would ever see _

_I want to wake up and drink from your river _

_I want to reach out and tear down the sky _

_To know I'm alive _

_I want to learn how to feel without bleeding _

_I want to learn how to live by your side _

_And know that you're mine _

_And why _

_We gotta swim against the tide to each other _

_To find the other side of the river _

_And why _

_If I offered you a picture _

_And the paint is yet to dry _

_Could you live with just a whisper? _

_A flower is meant to die _

There was no return address and the letter was not signed, he didn't even recognise the hand writing. Nevertheless he cherished it.

* * *

Authors Note 

The ongoing and quite complicated love of Aya and Crawford will be continued in either An Assassin and White baby, or an assassin and white Christmas, whichever I get round to writing first.

The song is the River from Breed 77 which I have fallen in love with.

Of course Crawford knew, he just didn't care. Smirks evilly and sticks out tongue, mwa ha ha.

Feedback appreciated.

Due to requests for the pic and a deal I did with my beta that if I got 75 reviews he would pay for a year's subscription, (I did so did he) the pic is now on my profile for anyone who wants to look, and Hannah, you still forgot the end of the email address.

So this one's complete, for now.


End file.
